


Adopt-a-bat

by BatsaboutBats (theboxedfox)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Babies, Batbrat, First Batgrandbaby, Gen, I'm just writing it for shits and giggles, Jason Todd becomes a daddy, Jason Todd has no idea what he is doing, No Bruce she's my daughter you can't have her, No seriously Jason just adopts a baby and hilarity ensues, She gonna be spoiled, She has blue eyes and black hair, Thank God for Alfred bless and thanks, This isn't a serious fic, the utter fool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theboxedfox/pseuds/BatsaboutBats
Summary: One bad night culminates into fatherhood for the Red Hood. He can handle drug lords and gang bangers and Gotham crazies with ease. Taking care of an infant will be a piece of cake. Right? (The fanfic in which Jason is more like Bruce than he realizes.)





	1. Chapter 1

It's a shitty night all around. First his crockpot broke when he tried to set it before patrol so he couldn't even cook a pork roast for when he got back. Then he was lightly sliced open by gang bangers with a lucky hit. None of his cases were moving along because the targets are doing fuck all nothing of much interest. The final nail in the coffin is when he finally crawls back to his safe house to find a woman dying in the alleyway beside it.

Her name is Sharon and she was the resident hooker in the apartment block. At least she had been until she was knocked up nine months back by some random John. Jason had helped her find a job as a cashier at a local grocer, where she worked nine to six and was home before dark. She was a good person just struggling to get by and she didn't deserve this.

She wasn't dead when he found her but nearly. The sick fuck who had attacked her had left her a gory mess, face beaten to a pulp and blood leaking out of the multiple stab wounds he'd driven into her. Kneeling beside her, he almost slipped in the puddle of her ebbing life. He counted at least fourteen hits, but her clothes were dark and it was hard to tell. In a last fit of resolve, she became lucid enough to see him, her eyes focused on his mask with pinpoint accuracy. Like she could see exactly where his eyes were burning with frustrated, powerless anger behind the facade of cherry red polymer. Jason felt weak when she gasped for the final time, her hand grasping his wrist and asking only one thing of him.

_“Save my baby.”_

He was cutting an infant out of a corpse the next moment, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through his veins.  _Don't let me be too late,_ he prayed to the absent God above.

With bated breath he waited, until a newborn's weak cries announced their arrival to this shitstain of a world. His uniform was already ruined, so cradling the blood smeared babe wasn't going to hurt anything. Carefully, he bundled the child in his arms and took the stairs to the safehouse he was going to burn in the morning. For now, he had work to do.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck. Fuck!” Jason chanted as he cleaned the squirming child in a sink. The faucet was detachable, thank small miracles, but the baby girl was decidedly unhappy all the same. She blinked at him blearily, her eyes too weak yet to focus properly. It made her look like a distrustful little gremlin.

“Sorry, I know. This sucks.” He soothed her bubbling wails, finishing up the bath as quickly as he could. A fresh towel would have to do as her clothes and a blanket, he decided, because this safe house was decidedly not outfitted for babies. He would go down to Sharon's apartment and raid her nursery eventually, but for now he needed to make sure the child was warm and clean.

Christ, Sharon. She was probably growing cold now and he hadn't even been able to take photos or document anything about the crime scene yet. Much less call it in to the inept GCPD. He'd been too focused on honoring her last request, the little bundle of hope that was yawning down the house cradled in his arm. She was tiny, dwarfed by his own bulk, her fingers no bigger than toothpicks as they curled up into itty bitty fists by her face.

He caught himself smiling down at her as her clouded blue eyes fell closed behind dark lashes. Her chubby cheek pressed to his kevlar plating as she snuggled down against him, slipping into blissful slumber. Clean, warm, and exhausted she was out like a light. He was conflicted to be trusted so implicitly but also incredibly touched at the levity of it all.

Carefully he kicked around the safehouse until he found a rather flat pillow on his cheap mattress. A few clean towels later, he had a cushy makeshift bassinet to lay her on. Once he was sure she was truly down, he left to check the scene and call it in before he made a pit stop at Sharon's apartment to gather the necessary supplies.

The boys in blue took their time to arrive on the scene, Jason timed them. Sitting on the sill of his window, he watched the alley and made sure nobody messed with the dead mother below. For each minute that passed the usual twenty minute traffic delays, he decided he would make sure and dig up the officers backgrounds and expose a dirty secret to air like month old laundry. An hour and a half later they showed up dragging their feet. Only one car rolled into the alley with two patrol officers taking their sweet ass time to go deeper in to find Sharon. They barely bothered to put up crime scene tape.

_Fine_ , he thought bitterly,  _I'll solve it myself like always._

The narrows were considered lost to GCPD. They hardly solved murders out here unless the bats did it for them. To the beat cops the narrows were an acceptable statistic. They barely cared about the downtrodden here, and it showed. 

Gordon tried to help, really he did, but considering all the crazy shit that Gotham experienced night after night, there wasn't much to be done about a dead hooker in the narrows. The department was overrun with cases of more importance.

Jason growled and shut the blinds.

Two mornings later the perp found himself beaten and ziptied outside GCPD with evidence packets stapled to his chest. Big staples, the kind used in construction, since the guy was a contractor. It had been a simple case that Jason barely batted an eyelash at to solve.

One glance at Sharon's phone and he'd found the man responsible in a heartbeat. The texts the asshole had sent her to lure her into the alleyway with the intent to _'make it up to her for being such a shitty Baby Daddy'_ were like a giant neon sign blinking out **guilty** in capital letters.

His name was Dane Crockton and he was married with two other kids. He'd been mildly successful enough to blow some cash on hookers and cocaine on occasion with Sharon being one of the hookers. He'd knocked her up and instead of facing the music and helping her, he'd killed her to cover up the affair and keep his 'real' family in the dark.

He also killed Sharon with a screwdriver, stabbing her ample chest and puncturing her broken heart. Jason made sure to jam one into the murderer's dickhole before knocking the guy out. He'd have cut it off completely but he had promised to play by the rules for Batman and letting the scumbag bleed to death would have brought attention he didn't want. So he broke it instead, and made a makeshift brace out of the biggest screwdriver in the asshole's  _own toolbox_ .

The whole affair only took him two hours, plenty of time to get back before the little tyke woke up from her nap. He'd moved them both out of the old safehouse and into a more suitable one once he'd seen the cops leave with her mother's body in a bag. Now they were located in suburb just outside Gotham city limits. The house was tiny, a mill house from the forties when Gotham was still big into manufacturing. The whole place was only four rooms, all interconnected in a loop making it easier to heat and cool. 

The child was still fast asleep in her newly assembled crib when he got back and didn't look as though she'd stirred once since he left. He'd taken the bare minimum from her mother's place, a bottle, blanket, a few onesies and two packs of diapers along with some baby formula. The only nonessential item he'd taken was a picture of Sharon from the windowsill. It was a headshot, probably leftover from when she'd come to Gotham with dreams of being a model. The little girl deserved to know where she came from when she grew up, and Jason felt she needed to see her smiling face instead of a poorly taken mug shot from her last stint in lock up for hooking.

Jason mulled by the stove, mixing up a fresh bottle according to the directions on the package. The easy part was taking down the criminal. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with... the collateral damage. He wasn't unfamiliar with children in his line of work but rarely did he deal with newborns. Much less ones he'd had to deliver himself out of their dead mothers.

Shaking the bottle he tested the temperature and found it a little too hot. He had time yet she was still asleep. Popping it in the fridge to cool a bit he tossed himself onto the couch and watched dust motes swirl about the ceiling. The idea of taking her to the foster care system gave him the chills. As a product of that system himself he staunchly refused to trust the social workers in Gotham with an infant. There was the Wayne foundation orphanages which were better by leaps and bounds than state care. Yet he couldn't completely settle on that as it felt like relying on Bruce too much.

In the other room he could hear her beginning to stir, the thin walls doing nothing to hide her minute little cries, announcing her hunger and boredom at once. Hauling himself off the couch to grab her bottle, he greeted her cheerfully.

“Morning Sunshine!” He poked her tummy gently, before her picked her up from the bare crib. She grunted, eyes searching the expanse of his bare face. She'd been extremely interested in his mask when they'd moved into the house, her little fingers smudging the shiny surface as she touched it in innocent exploration. His face seemed to please her though, little face scrunching and relaxing into a tiny smile as she took her bottle.

“Hungry little nipper, aren't you?” He joked, taking her back into the living room so he could watch the news. Sharon's killer didn't even make the news reel, which pissed him off. If she'd been from the suburbs she would have. Even Gotham's news crews didn't give a shit about the people in the narrows.

“Well fuck.” He complained. “See kid, this is why I do what I do. Can't just let your mom fall into the cold case files and be forgotten by gnat-brained Vicki Vale.”

She burped as if on cue and he couldn't help but grin.

“She makes me wanna spit up too, kid.” He was fairly sure that Tim hated her too, but he was much too nice to say anything untoward. The last time Jason had crossed her path during a patrol he'd flipped her off and called her mother a hamster and said that her father smelled of elderberries. He still wasn't sure she got the joke but he loved that she looked like she'd eaten a rancid lemon on live tv.

They sat in companionable silence as Vicki's program went off air finally and the afternoon gameshow segments began to play. By the third episode of Family Feud, Jason decided it was time for both of them to take a nap. He'd figure out what to do when he had at least eight hours sleep and a hot meal.

“Jay.”

“Ngh.”

“Little wing!”

“nRRRGhhghghh...”

“Jason come on, wake up, you gotta give me deets!” Dick's voice was low, but the excitement in his tone threatened to bubble over. Jason was very much not excited, he was too busy trying to mash his whole face into his pillow and ignore the ball of energy bursting at the seams by his bedside. He'd been up every three hours to feed and rock the baby and he was beginning to feel frazzled at the edges. He could not handle Dick at the same time.

“Jaaaaaaay!”

That was Dick whining now, tugging at his feet. He didn't budge, fists grabbing the iron headboard to stay in place.

“Fuck! _Dick!!!_ ” He roared, when his comforter was ripped off without warning. The chilly air was unpleasant, whoosing around him and making him shiver.

The soft burble of a baby's cry woke him up completely and he shot to his feet, nearly crashing into the floor in his haste. Dick was laughing, still wearing his gear. He shot the man a dirty look that could have melted the fingerstripes right off him if he were Kryptonian.

“Let me hold it!” Dick followed him to the crib, bouncing from toe to toe like an excited child about to see his new sibling for the first time.

“Her.” Jason scowled. “She's not an it.”

“Oh, Jay...” Dick softened, before reaching down to pick the squalling infant up. “She's beautiful, why didn't you tell us you had a daughter?” He pressed her against his shoulder, patting her tiny back.

“I--” Jason floundered. “She's...”

She spit up all over Dick's shoulder, milky white vomit trailing down his back in an impressive stream. Dick froze, smile dangling at the corner of his mouth like it was broken. Jason felt his own lips stretch impossibly wide, grinning madly.

“Yeah, she's mine.” He announced, taking her back with reverence. “Chip off the old block, sick of old Dickiebird coming in and waking us up when we're exhausted. Rude, so rude, ain't he?” He crooned, rocking her as he used a nearby towel to wipe her up. He pointedly didn't offer it to Dick, letting him take care of his own mess.

It was an impulsive statement and not a decision to take lightly but fuck it. Anything Batman could do, he could do better.


	2. Chapter 2

He stood on the precipice of one of the oldest buildings in Gotham and one of his personal favorites. It was a foreboding place on the surface, the stone walls black as night from over a hundred years of city pollution. Spires erupted from the rooftop, architecture of the Gothic style for the namesake of the city itself. The gargoyles of yesterday were long removed from most of the ledges, deemed structurally unsound during one of the past renovations converting the building from a Catholic church into the Public Library.

There was still one left though, too difficult to remove from it's position wedged beneath the closed bell tower. It was ugly as Moses, stubborn as Job and Jason loved the bastard like a brother. He stepped back from the rooftop edge and doubled back, walking easily along a knife's edge line of the jutting slope. A quiet laugh escaped him as he felt a small squirm at his back, the soft coos gurgling behind his neck nearly blown away by the wind.

“We're almost there, Sunshine.” He assured her before they reached the right nook to slide down into the small safety of his friend's alcove. The gargoyle was gathering moss despite the pollution and it peered at them both from beneath the crown of green and white like a curious goblin.

“Charlie! My buddy, my pal, you look like absolute shit man!” Jason cheered, one hand patting the gnarly head like an overgrown mutt. “I think we match though, lookit my eyebags they've got bags for bags! I can't sleep for nothing but I don't mind, it's worth it. Speaking of reasons why I can't sleep, I want to introduce you to somebody.” Jason carefully shifted the baby backpack he wore to his chest, cradling the bright eyed little babe he'd papoosed to the tippy top of Charlie's nook. He crouched low, his own bulk blocking the wind from both babe and beast. Jason brushed her dark curls back under her little red beanie and chuckled at the seriously somber look she was giving his old stone friend.

She didn't seem scared as she contemplated the beast's visage before gurgling a wordless noise that was obviously a question in her language. It was lost to Jason's understanding, but he let her have her little chat while his chest puffed in pride at her inquisitiveness. He'd called her a chip off the old block on a whim, but despite their lack of blood relation she was already picking up his habits. He was learning as much as she was and if he got a little misty eyed watching his little goblin talk to a stone goblin so be it. He was a man and real men weren't afraid to feel things.

Her babbling went on for some time before fading off into a yawn, her dark little eyes squinting. Jason's smile faded as she dozed off. Something caught his eye and he examined Charlie sharply. If he were anyone else, he wouldn't have seen the thing's snout move as though it were breathing, scenting the air like a cat who caught an interesting scent.

Normally he'd brush it off as a play of the light of Gotham's downtown district but he was Jason fucking Todd, the second Robin, former dead man and resurrected crime lord who'd seen aliens, other dimensions and most importantly: magic. He touched the gargoyle's chin, gently this time, brushing his thumb over the exposed canine before he patted it's cheek gently. Ugly as Charlie may have been, Jason had sat with Charlie a lot as Robin and he had always considered the Gargoyles of Gotham his only friends as a child. If they wished to hurt him or his it would have happened long before now.

“Hey Charlie... Keep an eye on her for me, ok? I know you know how dangerous my life is. You guys see everything that goes on in this concrete toilet. I don't know how I'm going to cope with raising a kid, but I know I'm gonna need all the help I can get.” Jason pressed his forehead to the beast's and sighed. “Her name is _Lizzie_. Short for Elizabeth Todd. Watch her close, and keep them from harming her. Don't... Don't let--” Jason inhaled sharply. “Don't let her end up like I did.”

The wind blew ominously, a rumble of thunder in the distance heralding a coming storm. Reluctantly Jason pulled back and stood, situating Lizzie onto his back again. He pulled his cigarette case from his coat and placed it between twisted claws. On an afterthought he set his custom zippo atop the silver case as well.

“I'm quitting the habit. This city might kill me, but I'm not gonna make it easier by getting lung cancer.” He grinned. “Since you always were my favorite buddy for smoke breaks, it's only fitting I give them to you for safe keeping.”

He stepped back, giving a jaunty two finger salute.

“See ya round Charlie. I'm getting this little munchkin indoors before all hell breaks lose above.” A boom of thunder sounded, closer this time. “Gonna pop downstairs and read her a bedtime story.”

Trick of the light or a touch of magic, Jason could have sworn he saw the gargoyle wink as he shouldered open the bell tower window and slid inside. Shaking his head, Jason showed Lizzie the ins and outs of breaking and entering 101.

There was little argument when it came to Alfred. Jason had learned that ages ago when he'd first arrived in the manor and tried to tell the butler he didn't like onions. He'd had a veritable smorgasbord of onion based dishes prepared and damn the man, he'd loved every one of them. So it came as no surprise to Jason that when he arrived back to his little house in the suburbs there was a bowl of his favorite french onion soup ready and waiting for him. He had sent a message via Dickiebird to the old gentleman two days prior.

The man hadn't replied until tonight.

Alfred stood from the reclining chair that Jason had situated near the window and smiled at him.

“Master Jason.” He greeted him, stepping forward.

“Alfie...” Jason nearly went to hug him before he stopped and remembered he wasn't alone. He took Lizzie from the backpack and cradled her, careful to not wake her. She'd zonked out after a few chapters of Oliver Twist and the storm had passed by then. She hadn't stirred a wink and remained asleep even as she changed hands.

Alfred slowly folded back into the chair and he said nothing for so long that Jason's stomach began to sink.

“Are you...mad at me?”

“No! Heavens no, Master Jason.” Alfred's voice wavered and in the light from the tacky little lamp on the side table Jason could see tears welling in the wrinkled corners of his eyes. “It's just been a very long time since we had the pleasure of seeing a Wayne so little.”

Jason grimaced.

“Uh about that. She's a Todd. I... I don't want Bruce to know about her. At all. I made Dick swear to secrecy, cashed in every favor he owed me for it. I need to know you will do the same.” Jason didn't want to ruin the moment, but he had to make sure Elizabeth would be safe even if it meant ruining the relationship between himself and the man he revered as a grandfather.

“I cannot say I am not disappointed.” Alfred said without a moment's hesitation and he nodded. “However I would never betray your confidence. Especially when a child's safety is at stake.”

Jason's mouth fell open.

“W-Where was this concern when I was a kid putting on shorty shorts Alfie??”

Alfred gave him a withering stare that only the British could muster.

“Master Jason, it was there. _Often_. Repeatedly so. You may not have heard the arguments I put forth, but they were had all the same. I had no wish to lay blame for your nightly endeavors on your shoulders as they lie entirely with Master Bruce.”

Jason swallowed thickly, the revelation heavy as lead in his own stomach. Alfred had tried to stop it. He hadn't succeeded but he had _tried_ which was more than anyone else had done for him. Suddenly a lot of his past memories made sense. The tense set in Alfred's shoulders whenever Jason was injured, the biting and caustic jabs sent towards Bruce and... Jason's case.

He remembered the only time Alfred has actually raised his voice at Bruce in his vicinity, when he returned home from patrol sporting a nasty slice over his inner thigh. Bruce had actually cracked a small, but proud smile at Jason when he held back the wince at being stitched up by Alfred's steady hand. He'd always hid his pain well, bore it all with a grin.

 _“Another notch on this soldier.”_ Jason had joked, saluting.

 _“You did a good job tonight. Maybe one day you'll be promoted.”_ Bruce had tapped the bat symbol on his chest and his lips were halfway into a real grin when suddenly Alfred slammed down the needle and scissors onto the operating tray.

 _“He is NOT your soldier, Jason is your son Master Bruce, and I would kindly ask you not encourage such risky behavior any longer.”_ Alfred's voice rang in the cave, anger lit behind his steely eyes. Jason had jumped, startled at the ferocity from the kind man, shocked to find Bruce nearly cowed. The moment passed however as Alfred gathered up the detritus of the task and headed for the manor staircase.

All at once, Jason realized that Bruce hadn't placed that case in the cave and he hadn't made the plaque either. Alfred had and kept it immaculate ever since, even after his return. The plaque served as a reminder to Bruce what he had done to Jason. A punishment and severe reminder to Bruce that he'd had a son and lost him in his all encompassing 'mission'. All because of his arrogance and uncompromising nature.

Alfred had made sure Bruce wouldn't forget because Alfred would never forgive him if he tried.

“Do sit down and eat your soup Master Jason. I will tend to the little Mistress.” Alfred's severity faded as he patted a elderly hand against Elizabeth's back. Jason did hug him then, sitting on the arm of the chair like an awkward big dog who wanted to be a tiny lap dog.

“Thanks Alfie. I love you the best, did I ever tell you that?” He laughed softly.

“No, but I do believe you've always shown it through your actions.” Alfred wasn't looking at him though, gazing at the child in fond affection. “Thank you, for sharing this secret with me. It is by far the most precious one I have had the honor to guard.”

It wasn't easy keeping her a secret. Jason had his hands full with running a criminal empire and being a vigilante at the same time. Since the incident with Penguin he'd gotten the club off the ground and then handed it off to hands that weren't tied with so many responsibilities. He had no faith it would stay clean long, but at last he could spend time with Elizabeth unfettered by paperwork or bourgeois parties.

Dick and Alfred could only help him so much with babysitting duties during the night. Reluctant to hire a civilian, but averse to a community cape, Jason was at a loss what to do. Leaving her alone at night was out of the question.

It was time to make a decision when the second month passed and he spent his time chasing down criminals whenever Alfred or Dick could spare a moment to watch her. If it continued on much longer Bruce was going to find out whether Jason wanted him to or not.

Jason leaned heavily against the door frame to the bedroom, staring blankly at the crib where Eliza napped. She slept a lot for a child and he knew it wouldn't last once she had developed more motor skills. He popped his neck, sighing.

In the living room his laptop was running algorithms to check crime patterns and overlap the cases in the GCPD case files. He couldn't keep up the pace like this, spread out so thin. No babysitter, no crime fighting.

For some reason, the idea of quitting and just settling down somewhere sunny with a picket fence didn't seem so bad now. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked the number before opening it.

“O, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“A little birdie told me you were in need of a personal assistant.” Barbara sounded suspicious but was hiding it well enough by keeping her tone light, which told Jason that Dickie had kept his promise to not tell, but his fat mouth had run _just_ enough to warrant check from Babs. Thank god he didn't have anything high tech in this house besides his laptop and phone.

“Jason is that a crib?”

_FUCK._

He realized that the phone camera was angled just enough to catch sight of the crib.

“Just a prop, in case somebody barges in here thinking it's my hideout.” He patted himself on the back for the quick save. She hummed.

“Hm. You're almost as good at staging a hideout as Tim.” She was clicking on a keyboard now and Jason's back began to sweat.

“Pssht, kid learned from me.” He bragged sarcastically. “But thanks for calling, I really could use a personal assistant for my everyday affairs. I'd steal Alfie but I don't want B coming to bust down my door.” Barbara laughed, sharp and honest in a way that made Jason smile. Barbie had not always been nice to him but she'd been up front with him from the start.

“I could send you a few resumes.” She said. “Any skills in particular you need them to specialize in?”

“Housekeeping mostly. Cooking, cleaning, discreet enough to not question the weird shit that happens to me?” Jason ticked the boxes off with his fingers, turning back to the living room. He shut the bedroom door quietly. “They also need to be third shift strictly. I don't wanna see them when I get home at dawn.”

“Any gender preference?” Babs was typing away as they conversed, and Jason wasn't arrogant enough to think she was actually working on his request _now._

“What? Oh, no. Not really. Just want someone good at what they do, gender doesn't matter.” Jason plopped back down on the couch and sighed. He really needed to chase down leads. “Look Babs, I gotta get back to work. You take care ok?”

“You take it easy yourself. If you're worn out enough to ask for a personal assistant, you must be going through hell right now.” Barbara actually sounded concerned, voice lilted just enough. “But noted. Goodnight Jason.” The connection cut off and Jason laid his phone face down on the coffee table. With a groan, he kicked off his boots and began to research for his cases.

She'd sent him a few resumes a few weeks later and each one failed miserably to impress him. He'd basically said he wanted Alfred, but what he got was corporate rats. Even Babs wasn't perfect and to be fair she didn't know he had a baby on board.

“I'm a personal assistant, not a _nanny_.” The last candidate hadn't even stepped inside his humble little abode, looking hopelessly out of place with her designer three piece dress suit and wickedly sharp high heels. He scowled, slamming the door right in her perky little nose and bad tit job.

Elizabeth cooed from her crib, the little sneak. She'd been awake all the while. He went to her side and scooped her up, rocking her. She was beginning to smile more now, her eyes lit with recognition at the sight of Jason.

The woman's snobbish attitude pulled at his heartstrings just a little. It dredged up bad memories of his own childhood, chased by the sour taste of rage at Elizabeth's own father for not wanting her so much that he'd killed her mother. He watched the little girl smile and squirm in the nook of his arm, her tiny hands reaching for his face as he pulled her up close and nuzzled her.

“How could anybody not want you?” He asked, voice cracking. “That lady would be lucky if I let her in the same house as you, Sunshine.”

Elizabeth gurgled back at him.

“That's right, you're way too good for the likes of her.” He drew back and grinned down at her, before he carried her to the living room to feed her and watch Golden Girls.

The doorbell rang and Jason smoothly switched the tv channel to the cctv that monitored his home's perimeter. He wasn't expecting anyone else today, and the abnormally short, broad shouldered man on his doorstep made him instantly alert. He'd done a lot of work to the little house since he'd made it his homebase, full of secret escape routes and hidden panels. For Elizabeth's safety, there were many new 'panic nooks' that he could safely stash her in case of a firefight. If left too long, an alert would be sent to Dick and Alfred to come retrieve her if... if he never got back up again to deactivate the security feature.

One such nook was right by the couch, popping up out of the floor like a crib shaped display case. She went right down in it without a fuss, sucking her tiny thumb as though this happened every day. Once it had slid back down into the floor where she would be protected, he stood up from the couch and clicked the safety off the armor piercing handgun from the back of his waist.

Baby safe, gun in hand, Jason answered the door like he did to all unsolicited visitors. Mean.

“Ay-Yo, we don't want no brochures, magazines, bibles, or whatever yer sellin' buddy.” He cocked the gun straight up in the man's squarish face. The area he lived was better than the narrows, but it was still Gotham. Jason didn't accept visitors and locals didn't get close either because it wasn't that kind of neighborhood. Most of his neighbors were transplants from elsewhere who stayed out of the city proper but still needed to be close enough to make a living. Gotham did that to people. It kept people from connecting to one another because people knew about the crazies and wanted to disconnect from others as though it would save them.

Even Gotham Suburbia wouldn't call the cops if they heard death screams next door, or the sound of a gun going off.

The man on the front steps went still as stone, his face not very handsome but rugged and deeply set as though carved from pale marble. He wore a heavy brown overcoat, with a plain white button down and modest black pants. His shoes were one size too big and heavily worn, nearly coming apart at the soles. A green cap was held between his thick fingers, at the same level as his heart. His hair was graying, silver streaks shot through the temples.

Jason, for the life of him, felt like he knew him. He didn't dare lower the gun though.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” The man's voice was deep, so deep that Jason could swear it was vibrating his bones. Mentally he shook himself and stared down his visitor. “I was just here to be interviewed.”

Confusion tumbled over in Jason's brain like dice in a cup. It must have shown on his face because the man pulled a piece of paper from his coat, holding it out to him.

“You were looking for an assistant? I'm sorry for being late, I had to take a new bus route to get here.”

Jason took the paper, casting a glance over it before looking back up at the man on his front step. Charles Stone, _housekeeper_. He squinted at the stout man for a few more seconds before he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. Oracle hadn't said how she'd fielded applicants and he knew he hadn't advertised the position himself.

“How'd you hear about this job?” He asked.

“My temp agency had a request for applicants and they recommended me.” Charles smiled, his teeth crooked but clean.

“Agency?” Jason quirked a brow.

“Yes, the W.E. Job Connection.” Charles supplied, motioning to his resume. “I've listed the agency's number, you can call them to ask any questions you may have about my previous work.”

“W.E.?” Jason's stomach twisted in unease. “ That wouldn't be Wayne Enterprises Job Connection would it?” The agency was old, and Jason knew it well. Bruce's parents had started it shortly before being murdered, trying to help the city's working poor get into better jobs and out of poverty. The agency was clean, but it still scared him to think that Bruce might find out about his secret life.

“Yessir. I've been working jobs through them for a few years now. They've really been helpful in getting me on my feet again after I lost my wife.” Charles seemed to pick up on his discomfort. “You must be very busy, and I'm sorry to have dropped by unannounced. The agency encourages face to face application, rather than calling.” He placed his hat back atop his graying head, nodding.

Jason watched him go back down the steps, debating. Something about the man was familiar, but it wasn't an alarming kind of familiarity. He looked back at the resume, before sighing.

“Let me look this over, make some calls. If everything checks out, I'll contact you for a interview.” He motioned vaguely with his gun, before he holstered it.

“Thank you sir, I hope you have a good day.” Charles waved, heading back down the street. Jason did not go back inside until he was gone, where he and Elizabeth spent the evening researching.

Three weeks later, Jason was glad he'd decided to give Charles a chance. The man was a fucking godsend and he was great with Elizabeth. He'd been paranoid as hell the first week, watching Charles work through the monitor in the bunker below his house. By the second week, Jason had accepted that Charles was a good man, who was a top notch house keeper and an even better baby sitter. He still reviewed video footage each morning he came home, but he was checking in on them both less during his work at night.

Jason was just finishing up hanging a few rapists outside GCPD when his commlink beeped.

“Mr. Todd?” Jason had given Charles a number that would link up to his commlink in case of emergency. He froze, dread filling his gut.

“Yes?” He willed his breathing to even out, before he slipped into the privacy of shadows in a nearby alleyway.

“I'm sorry to bother you but there was an unexpected visitor. I... I took care of it but I believe you should return as soon as possible.” Charles voice was tight, but he didn't sound afraid. A million scenarios ran through Jason's mind, but he clamped down on the panic. It would do no good to have a meltdown when his child was in danger.

“On my way.” Jason cut the line.

Out of all the scenarios Jason had thought of, Nightwing knocked out cold on the carpet of his living room was not one of them. Charles stood by the doorway to the hall that led to Elizabeth's bedroom, still as a statue. The protective stance and positioning did not escape Jason's notice.

“I heard a noise and I thought it was you. When I realized it wasn't...” Charles watched Jason as he checked Dick's vitals. He was breathing just fine and sporting what was going to be a nasty shiner. Besides that, the blue striped vigilante seemed fine.

“What'd you do? Hit him with a brick?” Jason joked, crouched next to Dick. The man was a diva even unconscious, splayed out as though he were a southern belle who'd had a fainting spell in the summer heat. Jason had the irrational urge to take a photo for blackmail material. He refrained, picking Dick up Princess style instead, laying him down on the couch. 

They said nothing for a while, watching Dick breathe.

“Who are you, really?” Jason looked at the older man, brows lowered. “ _Nobody_ gets the drop on a bat like this.”

Charles held up both hands, pose relaxed.

“More like, _what am I_.” Charles smiled, glancing out the living room window. The sky was just starting to grow lighter, an ugly rust color smearing the darkness like a bloodstain.

Jason's mouth opened, eyes widening.

Frozen in stone, Charlie the gargoyle stood guard in the hallway protecting his little girl just like Jason had asked him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, I will be working on this intermittently between my other stories so it might be a little slower to update. But who knows, I've been enjoying this one a lot, and I have a ton of ideas for Jason's little family. :D


	3. Chapter 3

Jason would have struggled to move Charlie had he been a normal man, since the beast weighed several hundred pounds. Normal Jason was not, and he only had a minimal amount of trouble getting Charlie's stone body into his basement bunker. By the time he made it back upstairs and picked up Elizabeth from her crib, Dick had come back around and was stumbling into his bedroom in a panic.

“Jay!” Dick relaxed when he saw Elizabeth safe and sound against Jason's shoulder. “There was somebody here, he snuck up on me somehow, is she ok?!”

Jason sighed.

“She's fine Dick. You should have told me you were coming. Then I could have warned my housekeeper you were dropping by.” Jason gave a pointed stare. “I see he's worth the money I paid if he can cold clock you.”

Dick looked confused, rubbing his undoubtedly aching face.

“Jesus, he hits like a truck.” Dick complained, popping his jaw. “Is he...like us? I didn't even hear him. He was just there when I turned around!”

Jason said nothing, shrugging.

“Jay...” Dick warned.

“Dick...” Jason snapped.

Elizabeth burbled, little hands exploring the crevices of his kevlar plating. Dick's frown faded, before he reached for her. He held her up, bouncing her gently, before swooping around to plop back on the couch. She took the flurry of movement well enough, squealing in delight. After throwing up on him, she'd come around like all kids did when it came to Dick.

Watching him entertain her with a rattle, Jason was struck by how much more fatherly Dick was than Bruce had ever been. It made sense, since Dick had raised Damian until recently when Bruce took over the cowl again. Jason went to make her breakfast, the ritual of bottle making letting his thoughts wander.

“God, look at her.” Dick crooned, nuzzling Lizzie's button nose. He made faces at her, his eyes lighting up as she mimicked him as best as her little face could manage. “She's got your mouth, too!”

Jason almost dropped the bottle.

He hadn't exactly come clean about her origins, her coloring and curly hair muddling perceptions easily enough. As she grew older it would be more difficult to hide, and he still wasn't sure if he could tell anyone. Things were still delicate between him and the rest of the clan, and he wasn't about to endanger her safety just because they all might decide she would be better off in foster care instead of his home.

He just knew he would rather die again than see her taken away.

He said nothing, handing off the bottle to Dick and letting him coddle her as much as he wanted. There were more pressing matters to tend to than broaching such a subject as Elizabeth's parents, like the five hundred pound Gargoyle sitting in his basement.

“How's Babs?” Jason decided to steer conversation to something safer, and if it made Dick squirm a bit in discomfort all the better.

“She's fine.” Dick chirped, patting Elizabeth's back once she finished sucking down her bottle. She was eating more, and already had burst out of her onesies into a more creative plethora of clothing. Tonight she was decked out in Wonder Woman print footie pajamas, with a little blue ruffle around her waist to mimic a tunic skirt. Dick had bought it for her, despite Jason warning him not to leave a financial trail.

Jason rose one brow at Dick, folding his arms.

“Yeah, I buy that and I'd be a sucker. Seriously, you and her a thing again?”

“No.” Dick frowned, looking over at him finally. He'd removed his mask while Jason made the bottle, and his black eye was already purpling. “We're not together. Unlike what the rest of you think, we can work together without _being together_.”

“Too bad. Barbie would make a great mom.” Jason popped his back, settling into the couch more comfortably.

Dick tensed, fingers twirling in Elizabeth's curls.

“...Yeah she would.” He muttered.

“You'd make a great Dad.” Jason encouraged.

“No.” Dick shook his head, eyes glinting.

“Sure you would, look at Damian. Nobody but you could have handled him.”

“No I... I can't Jason.” Dick bit his lower lip. “I'm not strong enough to lose a child.”

Silence buzzed between them, Jason's chest tightening. So many heroes had tried the family life and lost their children. Dick's own team had lost two themselves. _Lian and Robert._

 _“_ As much as I'd love a family, it's just not in the cards for me.” Dick murmured. “I didn't understand Mama Fortuna at the time, but now I do.”

“Mama Fortuna?” Jason echoed, curious.

“She was a palm reader at the circus. She was really good at it, and looking back I kinda wonder if she was actually a magic user.” Dick looked a little sheepish, hunching his shoulders. He didn't talk too much about the circus life these days, at least not the meaningful parts of it. “Whenever someone turned seven years old, or a variation of it, say seventeen, or twenty seven... She would do a tarot reading for them.”

“She read yours.” Jason surmised.

“Yeah. It was... really accurate.” Dick's face fell as he turned the words over in his mouth. “That I would be tested by great heights and lose everything. However I would gain something in return that would comfort me and conquer even greater heights than our little circus tent could offer.”

Elizabeth laughed, her fingers twisting the blue fabric of Nightwing's costume. Dick gently disengaged her, letting her play with his calloused fingers instead, gumming them curiously.

“She also said I'd be wise to avoid having children of my own-- because I would lose them.” Dick finished, quietly. “She predicted the Grayson line would end with me, and she was right.”

Jason leaned against Dick's side, brushing their temples together. He didn't know what to say, but it was obvious that Dick had been hurting over this for a long time.

“Can't argue with an old magic gypsy woman, Jay.” Dick tried to sound lighthearted, but he choked, clamping down on his exhale.

“So what?” Jason mumbled. “You know better than anybody that blood isn't everything.” He nudged Dick playfully. “Hell, you went from an only child to big brother of three little assholes.”

“Jay!” Dick gasped, covering his mouth, to block the curseword. “Not in front of the baby!”

“I know, I know.” Jason rolled his eyes. “But she's not gonna be talking for a long while yet.”

“Still.” Dick sighed, turning his attention back to the child who was entertaining herself by filling her diaper. Both men grimaced when the stench hit, and Dick didn't even pause their conversation as he went to change her. “You should start repressing yourself now, to make it easier when she does start to talk. It'll make your life so much easier if she's not repeating the things I've heard you say to criminals when she starts school.”

Once she was clean, Dick put her down in her crib, since she was already beginning to doze off on the changing table. He returned to the couch, sighing. He lit up at the sight of a pack of cold beer on the coffee table. Jason had taken the opportunity to strip out of his armor while the older man took care of her and yanked a box of cold pizza out of the fridge. Dick was the only one who appreciated a cold pie, Tim always wanted it hot and fresh while Damian had sworn off cheese from his diet since he'd adopted Bat cow.

“Is that Fratellis?” Dick moaned, wiggling his fingers in a gimmie motion.

“Fuck yeah. Best pizza in Gotham.” Jason offered the box to him, already taking a huge bite from his own slice. Whenever he ordered from there, he always got three pies, one for dinner, one for breakfast and one for laters. This was his breakfast pizza.

“ _Buck_ yeah, you mean.” Dick chided.

“Muck you.” Jason flipped him off with his ring finger, waggling his brows. Dick snorted beer through his nose, dissolving into a coughing fit that turned into laughter. Jason sipped his beer innocently, glad that Dick wasn't moping anymore. Listening to Dick rattle on about his cases and life in general, Jason decided that he wouldn't mind letting Dick hang out more often.

Long after Dick had gone home and just after sunsent, Charlie tromped back up from the basement, finding Jason in the kitchen polishing off his last pizza. They stared at one another almost comically.

“So, Charlie.” Jason plopped the slice back onto his plate, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “You're really a gargoyle?”

“Yes.” Charles looked down the hallway, where Elizabeth was already sleeping in her crib for the evening. “You asked me to watch over her.”

“So I did.” Jason gave the beast a once over. “How come I'm just finding out about you now? Why not before?”

“You've met Batman, have you not?” Charles grinned widely, his eyes squinting kindly. “We see all that goes on in Gotham, and we see him chase all things illogical out of it.”

Jason's brows rose, mouth parting slightly.

“You mean there are more of you??”

“Yes. Though not as many as the old days.” Charles climbed up onto a chair by the kitchen table. “My wife was one, but the men who came to remove us from the rooftop broke her accidentally. The rest were old reproductions that were not like us.”

Jason frowned.

“It was before your time.” Charles told him gently, waving away the boy's concern. “The rest are mostly in the older districts. They don't like to wander the streets as I do though. Too risky should we not make it back to our roosts by morning.”

“So... you're vulnerable in the daytime.” Jason concluded.

“We are aware of our surroundings, but yes, we are vulnerable during the day.” The gargoyle sighed. “I hope that you aren't thinking of smashing me.”

“Nope.” Jason shook his head, pulling out a chair to sit across from his old friend. “I just wanted to know about you. It's not every day I get a chance to meet a magical creature.”

“Well today is your lucky day.” The gargoyle quipped dryly.

“You eat?” Jason asked after a long stretch of silence.

“Do I eat, he asks.” Charles looked to the ceiling as if praying for strength. “Of course I do. And I don't put pineapples on my pizza either, only fairies do that.”

“Wait, fairies?” Jason looked wistful.

“Oh no, don't even think about it. They are horrible little hedonists who would chew you up and spit you out.” Charles warned. “They'd also take Miss Lizzie and leave you a changeling. Believe me, I don't think you'd like a changeling.”

Effectively put off from his curiosity, Jason nibbled his pizza again pondering. He had cases to work, but it wasn't every day he had a magic creature fall into his lap. Batman had never really trained him much about magic, only acknowledged it's existence and begrudgingly called in for help from Zatanna whenever he couldn't punch his way out of a magical situation.

“You uh... don't have to leave before sunrise anymore.” Jason offered. “I mean, it's cool if you wanna stay around. You'd be safer here, with us.”

Charles didn't immediately say no, but his eyes wandered the small kitchen critically.

“This home isn't...” Charles sighed. “It's not exactly roosting material. Too short, not enough eaves to perch on. I appreciate the thought though, and I will likely stay occasionally when your work runs too long.”

Jason's nose crinkled, not sure if he was insulted or not. His house wasn't the biggest or fanciest, but it was his and Elizabeth's.

“Do you have to perch on a roof or can you be a blockhead anywhere?” Jason asked.

“Sorry, it's just that we like to be up high. The wind and the sunlight gives us strength and the air is a bit cleaner up there.” Charles amended, motioning to the window. “I can eat human food, but it doesn't exactly do anything for me other than make me happy. ”

“Oh.” Jason tilted his head, thinking. “So if I got a bigger house with some nooks on the roof, it would be better for you?”

Charlie smiled just like a jack o lantern.

“Absolutely.”

“Heeey, Replacement!” Jason landed on a rooftop bordering Chinatown, where Red Robin was perched with some tricked out binoculars and a takeout container of steamed pork dumplings that smelled good enough to make his mouth water. To his credit, Tim did not lower his binoculars.

“Hood.” He said quietly, his focus lasered in on his target in the building across the street.

“You busy?” Jason teased.

“He's currently using the urinal so no.” Tim grumbled.

“Gross. Let me guess, penis like a toothpick?” Jason lifted his pinky finger lewdly.

Tim sighed, lowering the binoculars at last. The wristlet computer was probably streaming security feeds anyway.

“Did you need something?” Tim plucked a fresh dumpling from his takeout box and offered it to Jason. They'd come a long way from the old days, an uneasy truce morphing into something a little more affectionate. Jason took the delectable offering and popped the whole thing in his mouth, while Tim just looked half impressed and half disgusted. Swallowing, Jason nodded, before flopping next to him on the edge of the roof.

“I was wondering, you are living at that little roost of yours right?” Jason drawled.

“Yeah. Why?” Tim frowned, his brows crinkling the thin leather of his cowl. “Did you need a place to stay?” He looked concerned.

“No, well, yeah, but not there.” Jason shrugged. “I was just wondering if you were ever gonna move back into that behemoth mansion of yours.”

Tim's face was blank, as he processed the question. It was no secret that Tim had repurchased the old Drake family home, once things had settled down upon Bruce's return from his wild ride across time. Yet he hadn't stepped foot back in the place since as far as Jason could tell.

“No.” Tim said carefully, and Jason got the distinct impression he was getting side eyed. “I'm gonna regret asking, but why do you ask?”

“I wanted to buy it from you.”

“You are kidding me.”

“I solemnly swear I am not.” Jason held up a hand and placed the other over his heart. Tim did not look convinced. “Look, I just want to be closer to Alfred. Besides, your place is right next door and he deserves to be able to escape from Wayne One and Wayne Two sometimes.” Jason wheedled.

“I don't know...” Tim wavered, fidgeting with his binoculars. “It's my family home.”

“How about just renting it to me then?” Jason suggested, though he really would have rather purchased it outright.

“Can I think about it?” Tim replied, lifting the binoculars again. His lips pursed. “Shit, he's at the computer. Oracle, can you get a backdoor into his system?” Tapping his commlink, Tim sunk back into his investigation which left Jason open to helping or leaving him to it.

Jason finished off the dumplings while Tim hunted his white collar criminal, but he was nice and left a twenty dollar bill atop the takeout box, using the disposable chopsticks to weigh it down. He left without sticking his nose into Tim's business, since he was sure Tim would find it an insulting judgment on his abilities.

Instead he headed back towards the bowry, sniffing out leads on his own cases. Things had simmered down in his territory thankfully, but it never hurt to keep on top of things. A few pimps needed smacking, which he readily handed out, letting the hookers watch in glee.

It was nearly dawn when Jason finally called it quits, doubling back over rooftops to the place he'd stashed his motorcycle. There was moment where he irrationally thought if he pushed the dumpster back in place and moved it again that his bike would magically reappear where he'd parked it. Instead he just found a rumpled receipt for a burrito joint down the street, and several old cigarette butts in the dirty spot he'd left the vehicle.

If he hadn't been wearing his helmet he would have pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Only in Gotham would some idiot steal a murderous vigilante's wheels. Jason grumbled, tapping his helmet to activate the systems he installed. Nodding his head through the various programs, he voice activated the gps tracking for locating the bike. There wasn't anything important that could trace him back to the bike, but he still didn't want anything of his in the hands of some criminal. If worse came to worse he could activate the self destruct function, but he really didn't want to walk home.

Frowning, he squinted at the holoscreen when he saw the bike wasn't that far from his location. A few blocks away he found a run down playground between a few housing projects, though he shuddered to think of children playing here. Needles littered the dirt trail and the trashcan overflowed with beer bottles and suspiciously used looking condoms. He scuffed his boot over a familiar looking tire tread, following it to a rusted jungle gym that was covered by a tarp in someone's shoddy attempt to make a homeless shelter. He could hear someone within the structure, rattling what sounded like his muffler.

He fisted the tarp and ripped it off easily, finding his bike laying on it's side, tires already off and several parts spread out neatly in the dirt. A small child jumped, screaming in surprise and shock, bolting over the body of the stolen prize, but instead of running they hefted up a bent wrench and swung at him with all the fierceness of a cornered kitten.

He caught the wrench, easily twisting it out of the small hands. With one smooth movement he snatched the kid up by the seat of their pants and pulled them up off their feet.

“Put me down ya _big boob_!”

Jason almost dropped the kid in his shock, before recovering.

They couldn't have been old enough to be in the double digits and were so scrawny he felt like he was just holding a bag of marshmallows. The kid was so filthy he couldn't even tell what color their hair was. He stared the kid down until their struggling abated, worn out from the exertion of moving his heavy bike and fighting.

Jason let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“That was mine.” He jerked a thumb at his bike.

“Didn't see your name on it.” The kid snapped.

Jason kicked the cover over the motor where his bat symbol was painted in dark red. It was hard to see unless you knew what you were looking for, the paint only a shade or so darker than the rest of the body. The kid's eyes widened to the size of saucers, before their struggles began anew.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, don't hurt me...!” The kid somehow found the strength to make it hard for Jason to hold on without hurting them. He finally gave up and switched to setting the kid down and taking them by the biceps to still them. The kid went limp when they realized they couldn't get away, but they leaned as far away as they could.

“I'm not gonna hurt you.” Jason told them, before he realized the voice modifier wasn't exactly reassuring. Deactivating it with a quick tap to the throat and he was speaking again, using the soft tone he took with victims. “I'm actually kinda _impressed_.”

The kid looked wary, like a stray puppy who'd been abused but was offered a warm meal by a stranger. They were interested but still too damaged to trust it. Jason knew that feeling all too well.

“Why'd you take it?” He asked.

“Money, _duh_. Y'got some real special stuff on it.” The eyeroll was pretty epic in a way only kids could manage. Jason's lips quirked, letting the kid go.

“Yeah, well, it's bullet proof.” He admitted. “You do this kind of thing often?” The kid said nothing, crossing their thin arms over their chest. The black t-shirt they wore was for an adult, but they'd knotted it at the hem to make it fit better. Their pants were filthy and torn, barely covering their vitals. The shoes were even worse, mismatched and moldy.

“I'm Red Hood.” He told the kid, crouching down to their height. “What's your name?” The kid looked at him sharply, arms falling at their sides. His name was well known in the narrows, especially to the street kids. He'd set up enough shelters and safe havens for them to be known as one of the good guys among them.

“...” The kid looked conflicted, before finally muttering something.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asked gently.

“j...ne...” They mumbled.

“Sorry, I'm old so I'm hard of hearing.” He joked, holding a hand to the side of his helmet.

“Jane!” The little girl glared at her dirty shoes. “I said, my name's Jane.”

“Really??” He placed a hand to his chest, voice light. “You've got a name that starts with J too? That's pretty cool. My name's Jason. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to her waiting patiently for her to take it. She hesitated, making an aborted attempt to shake his hand once or twice before she finally did. His hand swallowed hers, carefully shaking it. She looked a little more confident when he let her go.

“Jane, why are you out here stealing bikes?” He asked quietly, keeping his hands in her view, palms up in a sign of peace.

“Gotta eat somehow.” She shrugged. “Besides, it's less dangerous than letting some weirdo put his dong in my cooch.” She cocked her head at him, making a face. Jason clamped down on the growl that threatened to rip out of his chest, because it wasn't Jane's fault she had been exposed to such atrocities.

“Anyone ever do that?” He questioned her, probing for information. If there were predators stupid enough to wander his territory he wanted to clean up the area quickly before any other kids were hurt.

“Naw. I'm not stupid enough to fall for the old 'I'll give you a ride' schtick.” She made a pssht noise, with her tongue and laughed. “What, you want to do that to me?”

“No!” He couldn't help but sound horrified. “God no. I put perverts in the ground for that kind of crap. I don't tolerate pedophiles in my territory.” He motioned from himself to her. “I just wanted to be sure you were ok. If someone was hurting you, I'd make sure they couldn't do it to you or anyone else again.”

Jane's eyes were wide, and now that Jason had a good look at her, they were cornflower blue. She seemed shocked to hear someone would actually protect her. Living on the streets, you learned quick that the only person who'd look out for you was yourself. Otherwise you just wouldn't make it.

A loud squeal filled the air, Jane's stomach announcing it's displeasure at being empty. She probably hadn't eaten for days, if the queasy grimace she made was anything to go by. Jason stood, dusting his cargo pants off.

“Come on, let's go grab some grub.” He told her, holding out his hand again. “My treat.”

Jason let her pick the restaurant and ordered their meals to go. He hotwired a drug dealer's sportscar under her gleeful supervision and drove them to a better park outside the narrows to tuck into their dinners. The kid had chosen tacos, demanding he get her one of each kind, while he stuck with the carnitas. She didn't seem to care what was in the shell, only that it was hot and fresh, not from a dumpster. He watched in amusement as she took a bite from each of her multiple tacos, alternating each time until she'd tasted them all.

Filthy, scraggly, and probably carrying parasites of varying degrees, Jane was still cute as stray kitten. He finished his tacos first, devouring four of them easily. He'd lifted his hood up just enough to reveal his mouth and she was trying to be sneaky enough to get a glimpse up under it to no avail. He offered his chocolate churros to her, laughing when she got the chocolate dip all over her face in her eagerness to get them in her tiny mouth. She let him wipe her face with a napkin, and then took over wiping her own hands off. She didn't do a very good job of it, getting sticky fingerprints on the dashboard as she curiously searched the glove compartment.

He quickly shut it when a handgun and some packets of white powder were dug out, confiscating the paraphernalia to dispose of later. She gave a cheeky grin between another mouthful of churro, before licking her fingers clean.

“So now what?” She asked him, carefully bagging up the leftover tacos in the carryout bag. She was casual, but Jason could tell she thought he was going to just abandon her. “Gonna load me off on those jerks at social services?” Chocolate got in her hair as she tried to wipe back her bangs. “Cause I gotta tell ya, been there, done that. Wouldn't wanna again.”

Jason sighed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. _What's one more gonna hurt?_ He pulled his hood off and shook the curls out of his eyes. Jane stared at him, mouth a round little O shape. Apparently he didn't match what she'd conjured up in her imagination.

“Actually, I was thinking maybe you should come stay with me.” Jason winked.

Jane fiddled with the seatbelt, pondering his offer.

“But I stole your bike...” She kicked her legs absently, and she sounded a little remorseful.

He couldn't help it, thoughts of yesteryear flashing through his mind. He'd never been sorry for stealing the Batmobile wheel, but then he'd been a little snot nosed punk through and through. It wasn't painful to think about now that he was faced with a similar situation. Had Bruce felt like this as he watched him chow down a cheeseburger after he'd caught him?

His laughter sputtered into chuckles, his breath hitching as he muffled himself into his palm.

“Let's just say we're kindred spirits and I'm not the kind of asshole who can leave a kid in trouble to fend for themselves.” He told her honestly, shaking his head. “If you don't want to though, I can take you somewhere safe. The church on Harlem Avenue will take you in and help you. No questions asked.”

Jane took her time answering, but her response made him want to laugh all over again.

“Will they make me wear a dress?” She asked.

“Uh, well...” He coughed to cover his amusement. “Probably. It's a catholic establishment.”

“Screw that, I'm coming with you.” She scowled, before looking at him suspiciously. “Y'aren't gonna try an' make me look like a doll are you?”

“What? No!” He did laugh then, shaking a little.

“Ok. You promise to not make me wear a dress and I'll stay with you.” She folded her arms and nodded.

“Sounds fair. In return, you gotta promise to not go off on your own, ok?” He ruffled her hair fondly. It was stringy and matted and he was already thinking of how the hell he was gonna get it untangled without hurting her. Damn, he was already doomed, he realized.

She blinked up at him as she reached up to fix her ragamuffin hair.

“Kay.”

“So, you ever gone from zero to a hundred miles an hour in a Maserati before?” Jason started the car back up, pleased when the little girl lit up like a Christmas tree.

“ _HELL YEAH!!!_ ” She shrieked in delight as they careened out of the parking lot and into the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and Gents, Jason is well on his way to joining Bruce's AAA (adoption addiction anonymous) club. Thank you all for your support, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Jason tried to respect Jane's privacy when they arrived back at his humble abode, collecting towels and soaps before showing her to the bathroom. She seemed excited when he ran the water for her, making sure she wouldn't be scalded. He left her to it, telling her to call him if she needed anything.

Charlie had laid Elizabeth in her crib and gone to rest in a narrow pool of sickly sunlight in the backyard, the overgrown bushes hiding him from prying eyes. Jason patted his gnarled snout as he paced his little patch of suburbia, waiting until he felt enough time had passed before he retreated to the house again to check on his girls.

 _His girls,_ he thought. He was unprepared for the sudden swell of razor winged butterflies in his chest at the realization he wasn't alone anymore. That he was responsible for the safety of two little ones in a way he hadn't been before. The closest he could put the feeling to was when he'd been running with Artemis and Bizzaro-- looking out for the big superclone lug like the older brother he never got to be for his previous family. Bizzaro could take care of himself though, and Artemis would have punched him in the tit for thinking he needed to look out for her too.

His girls were human. Fragile, breakable, _precious_.

Suddenly, Bruce's overreach of personal boundaries and all encompassing paranoia wasn't as crazy as it seemed. He rubbed his face as he trudged back into the house, as if the motion would wipe all traces of Bruce from his mind.

Elizabeth was awake but content to kick her legs at her moon and star mobile, entertaining herself. He listened out in the hallway for Jane, relaxing when he heard the bathtub draining. Satisfied, he collected Lizzie and began his morning ritual of preparing her breakfast. She sat in her little highchair patiently, patting at her little tray until he returned with her bottle. While she ate, he began whipping up his own breakfast, pancakes and scrambled eggs, along with thick strips of bacon. He made up a plate for Jane first, setting it on the table when he heard her come out, her bare feet plodding loudly on the kitchen tiles. She'd pulled on the t-shirt he'd given her for the time being, the hem nearly at her shins.

She was clean...ish. Still not exactly presentable. She didn't even seem concerned by her appearance, staring in wonder at the stack of pancakes smothered in syrup and sweet whipped cream. He winced as she began stuffing her face, getting syrup all over herself. How she had room after the tacos he didn't know, but he didn't care. She needed to put weight on, because her arms was too skinny and worried him.

“MmmMM!” She smacked her lips, closing her eyes as she savored the meal.

“Uh, Jane?” He rested a hip against the stove after putting his plate in the microwave. Apparently he was gonna have to roll up his sleeves and clean her up himself.

“Hm?” She chirped, distracted by the buttery eggs she was steadily popping into her cheeks.

“When you're done eating breakfast, I'm gonna help you wash your hair.” He sighed. “You can wear the t-shirt though, ok?”

She stared at him, before setting her fork down and squinted at him critically.

“What's wrong with my hair?” She asked slowly.

“Well you've got syrup in it for one thing.” He reached over and took a lock of greasy knots between his thumb and forefinger. “We've gotta get these knots out too--” He trailed off watching as a fat louse crawled over his thumbnail.

Jane scratched her scalp, unaware.

“You know what, why don't you finish breakfast and I'm gonna call Leslie.” He backed down, turning to the sink to scrub his hands clean before he pulled out his cellphone.

“Who's Leslie?” Jane asked, though it sounded more like “Boo Bebie?” with her mouth full.

“She's a doctor.” He told her softly. “I want her to give you an exam, and make sure you are ok.”

Jane made a face.

“Doctors stick you with needles!” She shoved away from the table. “I don't wanna get stuck!”

“No needles, promise!” He crossed his heart, waiting for Leslie to answer. At least, he really, really hoped not.

Leslie arrived an hour later on his doorstep, pinching his ear as she strode inside.

“Owowowow, L-Leslie!” He hop stepped after her, getting drug along by her strong fingers.

She smacked his shoulder once, then twice for good measure when they arrived in the kitchen. He rubbed his ear sheepishly.

“Why didn't you come to me?” She asked him under her breath, hissing. “Not just one, but two children! I swear you are as bad as he is.”

Jane watched the exchange carefully, looking ready to bolt if Leslie so much as pulled a tongue depressor out of her bag. Sensing her apprehension, Leslie sighed and turned to her little patient.

“Hello, you must be Jane. I'm Doctor Thompkins, but you can call me Leslie.” She held out her hand, not looking offended when Jane tucked her own behind her back.

“You gonna give me a shot?” Jane asked crossly.

“Not today. Jason wanted me to help you with your hair.” Leslie glanced at Jason and he knew that Jane would eventually have to get her vaccinations. Leslie wouldn't let him skip them. “Why don't we go to the bathroom and get started?”

Leslie left the bathroom door cracked open at Jane's request, the little girl nervous at being locked up alone with a strange person even if she was a woman. Jason couldn't help but worry when he heard Jane cry out in shock.

“I've got BUGS in my hair?!” The little girl exclaimed, followed by splashing. Leslie hushed her gently.

“It's alright, I'm going to get rid of them and you'll be good as new. Promise.” She assured her and Jane soon settled down, asking questions about Leslie's job and what sort of weird diseases she'd seen as a doctor. The little punk even got Leslie to crack a chuckle or two with some of her questions, and Jane quite enjoyed hearing about how Leslie had taken care of Jason when he was around her age.

“You're eight years old??” Leslie had laughed. “You're about the same age as Jason was when he came.” He was twelve but he'd been undersized for his age thanks to a nutrition deficiency and he guessed that Leslie was just shooting the shit with the kid to help her feel more at home in the new environment. It made him worry that maybe she had experienced the same kind of neglect too. He would have to start digging into her background as soon as possible, if only so he could kick the ever living shit out of her parents for abandoning her. The rest of their conversation was muffled from the sound of the hair dryer.

Jason tried to look innocent when they emerged, bouncing Lizzie on his knee while Peppa Pig played on the small tv he had set up in front of the couch. Jane launched herself onto the couch with them, giggling. She was fresh as a peach now, her skin tan from being outdoors and her hair a bright shock of blonde. Jason barely recognized her, no longer covered in grime.

She grinned at him, her heart shaped face impish.

“Jason? A word with you please?” Leslie's tone was light but her eyes were hard when he looked over at her.

“Uh, sure... Jane, can you sit tight?” He gently put Lizzie against his shoulder, standing up. “I've gotta go talk to Dr. Thompkins.”

“Kay!” She was already watching the tv, attracted to the bright colors.

He took her down the hall to his bedroom, and she waited until he shut the door and put Lizzie down in her crib before she stuck her weathered finger in his face.

“Jason Peter Todd, I'm only going to ask you this once, and you _better_ be honest with me! Where did you get these kids from?”

“Whoa, Les, calm down. I can explain!” He backed away, hands up. “Just... it's a long story ok? And you can't tell **anyone**!”

“I don't promise a good damn thing, not until you spill.” She harrumphed, folding her arms sternly.

“I just found Jane last night. She stole my motorcycle.” He began, sighing. “I couldn't leave her out there, she was obviously starving and had been outdoors for... well, a long while. She was dirtier before you got here, even worse than I was back then.”

Leslie said nothing, slanting her eyes to the crib. Then she leveled him with a heavy stare.

“Uh...”

“And what are you doing with an infant?” She asked, tapping a finger against the nook of her elbow.

“...” Jason hesitated, before he surrendered. “Her mom lived downstairs from one of my regular safe houses. I came back one morning and found her Mom dying in the alley. Some asshole had knocked her up and attacked her to keep her quiet. She asked me to save her baby Leslie. I... I did what I had to.” He grimaced when Leslie's face grew stormy. “I couldn't save her mom, ok?? She was dead before I could so much as call an ambulance!”

“Why didn't you come to me?” Leslie rubbed a hand over her face, grumbling. “Jason, you should know better. Babies need special care, and while you might make a decent medic, you aren't a doctor!”

“I...” Jason's jaw trembled. “I didn't know I _could_.”

Leslie looked up at him suddenly, startled. Dumbfounded even.

“Jason...” She softened, before she walked forward and gave his arm a squeeze. “You can always come to me. No matter what. I know things between you and Bruce aren't the best right now, but I promise you I will help you without question. I took a Hippocratic oath, remember?” She smiled, rubbing his bicep before she let him go. “Now I'm going to give this little one a look over and Jane's been through enough today... but I expect her in for a check up soon as you get more details on her background.”

Jason groaned, shoulders slumping.

“Shots?”

“Mm hm.” Leslie hummed, popping open her bag. She picked Elizabeth up, cradling her carefully. The little girl stared at her with big blue eyes, sucking her tiny thumb as she observed the old woman. Leslie paused, raising a brow. Elizabeth mirrored her, mouth opening in an inquisitive noise.

“Really?” Leslie asked, taking the moment to check her gums and tongue. Elizabeth made a face, little mouth opening and closing when the woman's digits retreated. “Black hair? Blue eyes?”

“Hey!” Jason bristled, waving a hand. “Don't you even--”

“Don't let Bruce find out, or he might just adopt her.”

Jason's fist clenched and he stuffed it in his pants pocket to hide his white knuckles. Leslie finished up her exam in the meantime, checking her heartbeat, breathing and motor movements. Elizabeth took it well enough, only growing fussy when Leslie wouldn't let her turn around to look at Jason.

He lurched forward to soothe her, but stopped as Leslie held up her finger. She listened to her breathe a moment longer, before she methodically pulled the child's top back down, frowning.

“Is something wrong?” He grew anxious when she laid the child back down in the crib.

“She sounds a little bit congested. Normally I wouldn't be concerned but since she hasn't been vaccinated yet I would like it if you'd keep her away from Jane for now and keep a close watch on her. How have you been taking care of her by yourself?”

“I hired a nanny for the nights.” Jason told her honestly. She didn't need to know he was a five hundred pound block of stone during the day. “I've been home for her every morning, I swear.”

“You told Alfred, I hope.” Leslie scowled.

“Uh, yea. Dick found out first, he dropped by unannounced. He wouldn't keep it secret unless we told Alfie.”

“Hm.” Leslie busied herself packing up her bag again, scribbling out a few instructions for children coming down with colds. “You aren't going to tell Bruce, are you.”

“Nope.”

Leslie shook her head, smacking the paper against his broad chest.

“I can't say I blame you.” That was as good as an all clear from her if he heard one.

“Thanks Les.” He tucked the paper in his back pocket, showing her out. “I'll bring them by your office in a couple days.”

“I want Lizzie in tomorrow first thing.” Leslie ordered. “She needs her vaccinations and she's overdue.”

“Oh boy.” Jason mimed a cheer, not missing Jane's doe eyes peering over the back of the couch at them suspiciously. She ducked back down when Jason spotted her. He locked up after Leslie and made his way to her, making sure she could hear his footsteps. No sense in Bat-scaring her. He leaned over to peer at her clutching a throw pillow to her chest and feigning innocence as Sailor Moon reruns played.

“You like the Sailor Scouts?” He asked, smiling.

“Uh...I guess.” Jane fiddled with the buttons on the pillow, glancing up at him.

“Me too. I like Sailor Jupiter best.” He hopped over the couch, landing heavily enough that Jane bounced up, a cry of delight bubbling out of her. She perked up, drawing onto her knees when she landed, finally letting curiosity get to her.

“Do you know any heroes?” She dropped the pillow, hands cupping her cheeks. “Like Superman?? Or...Oh! Wonder Woman!”

Jason's brows flew into his hairline because for once, someone wasn't asking about the goddamn Batman. Usually kids asked him about Bruce whenever they saw he wore the bat symbol.

“I've met them.” He affirmed, almost laughing at the way she looked ready to combust with barely contained excitement.

“Is she really a princess???” Jane breathed.

“Yup.” He cocked his head. “She's my favorite. I mean, Supes is great and all but everything he can do she can do better ya know?”

“Mine too.” Jane agreed, plopping back down next to him, wriggling until she was comfortably crammed under his arm. He shifted to accommodate her, gently pulling a throw blanket from the basket beside the couch to cover her bare legs.

“You tired?” He knew she had to be, she'd been up all night like him. She shook her head, but her eyes drooped. Adrenaline and excitement could only go so far to keeping a person awake.

He felt the moment she nodded off, slumped over in a boneless fashion Dick would have been proud of. Jason shut off his television and carefully collected the tired tyke, tucking her into his own bed. She didn't so much as stir, flopped out like a starfish.

He scooped up Elizabeth and they entertained themselves in the kitchen, where Jason made a grocery list. Thank God for Amazon Prime, he didn't know what a vigilante with an active lifestyle would do without it. He added some outfits for Jane to his shopping list, selecting a few different sizes in each to be on the safe side. The groceries would arrive in a few hours, and the clothes would arrive that evening. _Hopefully_. This was Gotham and if the crazies broke out or got up to no good, it could take longer.

He gave Lizzie a bath and then took a quick shower himself while she rolled around in her playpen. By the time he'd cleaned the bathroom and kitchen, the groceries had arrived. He was in the middle of putting away the sugary cereal he kept in stock for Dick when the phone rang. Distracted with trying to fit the boxes of diabetes into the pantry he didn't check the caller.

“'Lo!” He greeted, confident that only Alfred or Dick would dare call this number since that was the only people he'd given the number to.

There was no answer on the other end but he'd recognized the brooding silence. Jason felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up uncomfortably aware that the man could be nearby. He growled, angrily.

“Bruce, what the fuck do you want?”

“So it's you.” Bruce didn't respond to his question, but Jason got the message. Bruce had noticed Dick and Alfred's behavior lately, and was investigating because of course he would.

“Yeah, it's me. This is my phone.” He snapped. “The fuck you want?”

“I don't want anything.” Bruce replied tersely. “Merely checking into--”

“Spying on Dick's phone again?” Jason stabbed at the heart of the matter. “You know he's gonna get pissed at you for this.”

Bruce said nothing and Jason distinctly felt he'd stepped into a trap. Fuck, it wasn't _Dick_ that Bruce was checking up on.

“You haven't been by for dinner in a while.” Bruce nattered, diverting the conversation.

“Yeah well I haven't exactly had time.” Jason closed his eyes, knowing that he'd have approximately thirty or so minutes to get the girls and Charlie out of this house before a bat themed hit squad was upon them. “I'm busy, so if you're done invading the privacy of people who don't trust you...”

“You should come by tomorrow. Alfred would want you to be here for family dinner.”

“Yeah but you don't.” He couldn't help the anger that crawled out of his throat on that one. “I'm too busy Bruce. Tell Alfie I'll call him for tea like we've been doing.” Good, that would cover for Alfred at least. As for Dick... “And tell Dick to stop calling me. I don't know where Starfire is and I'm not sure if she'd want to talk to him after he gave her the cold shoulder for so long.”

“Noted.” Bruce didn't sound angry or upset. He sounded annoyingly balmy, as though he knew every little secret Jason was desperately trying to hide. He hated this and he hated Bruce.

“Tch'. Bye.” He hung up, not giving Bruce a chance to respond.

Jane didn't wake up until they pulled up to the front door of their new house. She looked as discombobulated as Jason felt, but he had to steady his nerve because he didn't want to scare her. After hanging up on Bruce he'd made a mad scramble through the house, grabbed up important case files, his gear along with Elizabeth's emergency grab bag. He'd had it all stuffed in the back of his bland sedan and the girls buckled up in under ten minutes.

He picked the lock with ease and let the door swing open. Jane rubbed her eye blearily then tottered into the house, looking around as though she were still dreaming. He followed her in, Lizzie safe in her carrier in one hand and his bags in the other.

Nobody would think to look for him here. He'd dumped his phone down the garbage disposal so he couldn't send a text to Dick or Alfred to let them know about Bruce's call... or that he was spying on them. Again.

Drake Manor was empty. Jason had hoped in vain for at least a couch or chair, even if it was covered in dust. Jane looked up at him and tugged his jacket sleeve.

“Why'd we come here?”

“Uh... Work. I had some work to do here.” He replied, brain working overtime trying to figure out what the hell he was gonna do now. Lizzie could sleep in her carrier with her baby blanket but he didn't have anything besides a knitted afghan for him and Jane. Not even a single pillow.

“mkay.” Jane stood in the middle of what was probably the foyer and stared like a sleep deprived zombie into the dark hallway. Jason took her hand and did a quick walk through of the downstairs, finding not so much as a stick of furniture. Upstairs wasn't fairing much better until they happened upon the master bedroom.

In the middle of the room a king sized bed stood, covered in a protective white sheet. Jason wanted to throw himself on it face down and sleep for a month, but he had to get the kids settled first.

The sheet was loaded with dust, but the mattress beneath was relatively dust free. Only a few dust bunny dinosaurs clung to the bottom of the bedframe, easily swept under it with his boot. He removed the sheet and began to unpack the blanket. There weren't any sheets to use but he could sleep anywhere and he had a feeling Jane could too.

“C'mere munchkin.” Jason rumbled at Lizzie, who was chewing on the strap to her carrier. She snuggled up with him right away, her little nose warm against his throat. He plucked a premade bottle from her bag and began to feed her, sitting heavily on the bed.

Jane watched them from her collapsed position on the bed.

“What's her name?” She asked.

“Elizabeth. Or Lizzie for short.” He paused. “I found her too.”

“Found her?” Jane looked entirely too interested for how tired he was.

“She was...abandoned.” Jason trailed off, haunted. “Her Mom died, and her Dad didn't want her. So I took her in.”

“My Mama put me up for 'doption.” Jane yawned. “M' parents were nice. They died last year. Didn't like fostercare so I went lookin' for m'Mama...in... Gothrrm...”

She conked out again, nuzzling against the tricolor afghan Jason had bought at a flea market-- it was in his old Robin colors. He watched her sleep, his brow wrinkled. There was no way he was going to let her wear the outfit, or any other uniform if he could help it. Neither girl would be caught up in the hell that was being a dumbass in spandex punching criminals and crazies.

With Lizzie fed, burped, changed and rocked to sleep, he left the girls to rest while he puttered around the house. He was shocked to find no alarms or security systems installed in the house. The old ones were long gone, the house stripped of everything Bat related. Apparently Tim _really_ hadn't been back.

Then Jason remembered about Jack Drake and how he excised Batman and Robin from Tim's life. Jason couldn't blame the man for that-- even if he could blame him for his lack of attention that led to Tim joining the family in the first place. After what happened to Jason nobody else should have worn the uniform. He rolled his eyes. If wishes were fishes he'd be drowning in the sea by now.

After checking the house, he paused to survey the back patio, staring blankly at the empty Olympic sized pool that was going to need a lot of TLC to get back up to snuff. The artful in-ground hot tub would probably get fixed first, since he was already imagining how nice it's warm jets would feel on his abused body after a patrol.

The sun was still high when he went back inside, mind already grinding to a halt from lack of sleep. He wasn't worried about Bruce finding them here, but he was worried that he might put together the clues at the other safehouse. He'd given Charlie a quick run down before he'd left, hoping that the gargoyle wasn't asleep or something.

He slunk back into the master bedroom, both girls still sound asleep. The carpet was stale but it was still well padded, so he bunked down next to Lizzie's carrier, letting the floor straighten out his back. He wouldn't sleep very heavily like this, but he didn't need to. Just enough to perk him up and then he'd be up taking care of the girls again.

Drifting off, he hoped the criminal element in the narrows fucked off tonight right beside Batman.

Tim grumbled as he pulled up outside the tiny little house that Bruce had sent him the coordinates to. He honestly wished the man would quit dragging the rest of them into his never ending dick measuring contest with Jason. If Dick and Alfred were 'compromised' as Bruce put it, then it was probably because Jason _right_ about whatever they were arguing about. Tim had been up for days and stretched far too thin the last few weeks to want to deal with this.

He was able to let himself in after taking the security system down. It _might_ have given Bruce trouble, but since Jason had used similar systems to his own it wasn't a problem. He tried not to think about how similar they were these days for avoiding Bruce's prying eyes, even if it were for totally different reasons.

The house was silent when he entered, though he stayed on high alert. Everything looked normal until he got to the kitchen. Jason had left in a hurry, groceries left sitting on the counter and dishes in the sink. Tim frowned, his mind freezing up when he spotted the baby bottles drying in the dish rack.

Baby formula on the counter.

A crib in the bedroom.

A play pen in the living room.

Dreft laundry detergent on top of the washer.

Staging a safe house was par for the course for them, but Tim couldn't help but remember Jason's odd, almost out of character request to buy his mansion. He'd not known what to think at the time, but now he was starting to realize maybe it wasn't a joke or sinister plot.

“O?” Tim tapped his communicator. “You seeing this?” He'd left his mask in the car, opting to wear the stealthy sunglasses model instead. Already her little icon popped up on the holoscreen, to alert him she was watching.

“Yea, I see it.” She replied, sounding cross for some reason. “That bastard lied to me.”

“What?” Tim found several hidden panels that he recognized as panic room controls. He watched numbly as a crib sized box rose in front of the couch when he pressed the right secret button.

“He asked me to find him an assistant. Now I know why.” She was chewing ice, probably drinking a glass of flavored carbonated water she was fond of these days. “I'm going to kill Dick.”

“Oh my god, Bruce is going to have a conniption.” Tim whispered.

“This could be bad.” Barbara agreed, humming. “I'm going to call Dick and try to get more information out of him. In the meantime you report back to Bruce, but don't tell him anything yet. Ditch that evidence quickly before he comes to look for himself.”

“On it.” Tim grabbed some garbage bags from under the kitchen sink and got to work.

“Black Bat is on route now, she's keeping mum too. I think she knew already.” Barbara's eye roll was loud enough to be heard through the commlink. “...She said he had a _glow_. What does that even mean???”

“I don't know.” Tim shrugged. “What's her estimated arrival?”

“Twenty minutes, if the traffic isn't bad.” Barbara sighed. “Let me know when you two are done, I've got Dick on the other line now. I'm going to yell at him a bit.”

“It was just a house Bruce.” Tim repeated for the seventh time as he headed back to the Nest for a few hours of sleep before his patrol. Cass had taken over for him when she arrived, and sent him back to intercept Bruce before going out on patrol. Barbara had shot him a message to meet up in two days at the clocktower and for him to refrain from contacting Dick in the duration. No sense in tipping Bruce off.

“I know it was a house, it's what he had inside it that worries me.” Bruce was being especially aggravating tonight. Tim chewed the inside of his cheek.

“There wasn't anything there, just furniture and a bit of food. Why are you so sure he's up to something anyway?” Tim sighed. “Just because Alfred and Dick were visiting him on a regular basis isn't a good enough reason either. In fact, it's like you're trying to cut him off from the rest of us.” If the last part sounded caustic, so be it.

“I have a Justice League call on the other line. Just remember no detail is too small when you write your reports.”

The line cut off and Tim didn't feel bad about lying. He knew why Barbara had tasked him with it, since he was the only one who could manage to fool Bruce. Jason was correct to keep this secret from the family, since he couldn't really trust anyone except Alfred. How Dick got mixed up in this was anyone's guess, but with a child involved it made sense for Jason to allow him in.

Tim didn't really care that Jason might or might not have a child. What Tim did care about was the mother's identity. Jason's history with the League was worrisome since Talia had been his handler in his lost days. Considering what she'd done to Bruce and the aftermath that resulted in Damian, the situation led Tim to some dark conclusions.

If the League of Assassins was involved, Jason was going to need everyone's collective strength to come out on the other side of this. He didn't want to wait two days anymore, visions of Ra's butchering Jason while an infant looking like Damian wailed in Talia's arms running through his mind.

He decided to skip patrol.

Swerving so he wouldn't miss the exit he began to head towards Wayne Manor, his red Maserati steadily picking up speed once the crowded city streets began to fade into the more sublime neighborhoods. Time was of the essence when it came to the League and Tim wasn't sure when the clock had started ticking.

He buzzed past Drake manor so fast he nearly missed the light glowing from the window of his parents old bedroom. He slammed on the brakes, burning at least a solid inch of rubber off his prohibitively expensive tires. Throwing the car in reverse he killed his headlights and backed up the driveway enough to get the car out of the road. He sprinted up the rest of the driveway and let himself in with the key under the loose brick at the front entrance.

He expected Jason to put a gun in his face when he opened the master bedroom door, but he never expected this. Jason was snoring on the floor, one hand resting on a baby carrier complete with an actual baby sleeping in it, his other hand firmly placed on the back of a child cocooned in a blanket over his broad chest. On the floor a little battery operated lamp was glowing dimly, which explained the light he'd seen. Tim stood there dumbly for several seconds, unable to process what he was seeing.

Jason's guns weren't on him anywhere Tim could see, but that didn't mean much. There was no way Tim could wake him without consequence. Like someone who'd wandered into a bear's occupied den, Tim slowly backed out of the room and shut the door. Unable to do anything but wait, he went downstairs and ordered some takeout.

Jason woke up with hair in his mouth. He nearly flailed against the slight weight on his chest, until he remembered where he was and who he was with. He pried his eyes open and glanced down, bewildered as to how and when she'd crawled off the bed. It took all of his training to not wake her as he put her back to bed, but he wasn't lucky enough with Lizzie. Her baby blues were wide open and staring at him expectantly.

“Shhh, shhh...” He kissed her forehead when she began to make a face, fussing her displeasure at being confined to her carrier for so long. “Sorry Sunshine.” He retrieved her baby bag as he skedaddled out of the bedroom. He wanted Jane to sleep since he knew the kid probably needed it.

In the hallway he froze, catching the scent of Chinese takeout wafting from the staircase. Lizzie snuffled grouchily and he shifted her to one arm while he unholstered the firearm at the small of his back and cocked it. He didn't need it thankfully, when he found Tim sitting cross legged on the kitchen island with bags of takeout next to him. He was already demolishing a carton of lo mein, that smelled distinctly of beef and deliciousness.

They both stared at one another, until Jason put the gun back in it's holster and Tim dropped his disposable chopsticks in the carton. His face must have been wretched because Tim immediately put both hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I'm here to help.” Tim said as if that explained anything.

“Bruce-kind of help, or actual help that is helpful?” Jason shot back, hefting Lizzie in both arms again. She squirmed, whining. He frowned before he turned her around to face Tim, one hand beneath her bottom, the other over her little torso to steady her.

“Helpful help? Bruce doesn't know I'm here.” Tim got off the counter and came close, gaze flickering over her features before darting back to Jason. “Is that another one?”

“Another one?” Jason stiffened, offended. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, is that baby...uh... you know. Another Damian?”

“Fuck no!” Jason's voice rose, before he remembered himself and lowered to a gruff scoff. “She's mine. Her name is Elizabeth and don't you forget it.”

“Sorry, just... I know you and Talia were--”

“Absolutely not going there, Replacement.” Jason growled. For some odd reason, Lizzie laughed. “Oh? What's that Lizzie? You find Tim's face funny? Me too.” He groused, before breaking into a smile as she giggled again.

“So this is why you wanted my house.” Tim changed the subject, looking around the empty kitchen.

“Yeah. I mean, remember me hiding out under the GCPD building? Same difference only a hundred times ballsier. Besides, I thought it would be nice if Alfred could visit them more often.”

Lizzie was busy inspecting Tim's fingers but Tim wasn't distracted enough to miss that clue.

“Them? You...You've got more than one?” Tim's eyes widened.

“Yeah. There's an older one, asleep in the bedroom. I found her out on patrol, boosting my bike.” Jason sighed, handing Lizzie over to Tim. When he was sure the other man wasn't going to drop her, he began rummaging for something to eat in the takeout bags. Swiping some dumplings and stirfried shrimp he began to eat. “She's eight and has been on the street a year from what I've gathered so far. Said she was adopted, her parents died, and she came looking for her birth mom in Gotham. I haven't had a chance to do any research yet, so if you could help me that would be great.”

“A year...?” Tim asked softly, brows having risen and lowered several times in their conversation. Now they were narrowed, obviously incensed at the shitty fostercare system. “Where did you find her?”

“Narrows.” Jason said flatly. “I'm as amazed as you are that she's alive. Especially boosting car parts. It ain't like when I was a kid anymore. That shit will get you killed, instantly. I need to find out where she was selling the parts to and get the low down. I'm afraid there might be a gang using child labor out there again.”

“Was she...uhm. Working?”

“She wasn't selling herself if that's what you're asking. She said she knew how dangerous that was.” Jason tried to tell himself the dumpling was sticking in his throat because he was dehydrated. He finished the last of the stirfry before he moved topics again.

“You can't tell Bruce.” He hardened his tone. “Because I know what he'll do-- take them away and put them in the system. Just like criminals, only these kids can't escape and they'll be at the mercy of the overworked and apathetic social workers.”

Tim looked down at the little girl in his arms and felt ice pool in his stomach at the thought of her in Gotham's child protective services. Even with all the money that the Wayne Foundation poured into orphanages and fundraisers, the entire system was a black hole and kids that fell through the cracks _really_ hit rock bottom.

“I won't tell him.” Tim promised, meeting Jason's gaze. “But I think you should tell the others.” At Jason's protest Tim continued. “You've got Alfred on your side, Jay. Believe me, nobody is going to go against Alfred.” Jason relaxed visibly, making Tim all too aware of just how much he'd carrying on his broad shoulders. He offered the man a smile.

“Let us help you. That's what family is for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REALLY LONG CHAPTER IS LONG.
> 
> I am sorry. I just started a new job and it gives me plenty of time to write but no internet connection to upload. XD So I hope you guys enjoyed it. Looks like the secret isn't so secret anymore. Now it's a game of keep-away with the family vs. Bruce. (and by proxy, Damian, because nobody can be sure what his reaction will be yet.)
> 
> :3c This story is unbetaed btw so forgive my typos and sloppiness, we die like men.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to start by saying I am very unfamiliar with Duke, but it felt odd not having him in the family. So I'm gonna try to research more about him but there's little I can find besides the fact he was one of the Robins from Robin War and he's a Bat who works IN THE DAYTIME lol. So if he is OOC I apologize profusely, I tried my best. 8_8 (I'm also assuming he's a teenager)
> 
> That said, enjoy!

The next two days Red Hood went underground while Jason Todd was busy setting up a nursery in Tim's old bedroom and putting together a daybed in his old playroom. Jane was helpfully pointing out each step in the _destructions_ inbetween keeping Lizzie occupied in a bright red Bumbo seat that a harried looking Amazon delivery driver had dropped off. The girls were getting along splendidly, Jane taking to the small babe as though she were a beloved doll. Jason found himself bewildered by how much he was smiling lately despite dreading the upcoming 'meeting'.

Leslie had stopped by covertly and given Lizzie her shots, shooting Jason an exasperated look when he got misty eyed at her miserable wails. He held her through it, though his voice cracked in a very unmanly way as he apologized profusely to her towards the end.

Jane had clutched his pant leg so tightly he thought she'd torn it, watching the spectacle with eyes wide at the traumatic fear that she was next. Even when Leslie assured her she wasn't going to be getting any shots, Jane still hadn't turned her back on the doctor. All the goodwill Jane had held towards her was gone now, glued to Jason's side like a lifeline.

Lizzie had recovered well enough from the indignation that was being stuck with needles the diameter of a strand of hair, more startled than anything. Ever since Jane had been a constant vigilance, popping up with toys or bottles whenever the little one cried and even helped with diaper duty. Only the wet ones though, she still couldn't master breathing through her mouth when it came to the number twos.

His last conversation with Tim had ended well enough, the younger man promising to start digging into Jane's history right away. Jason knew that odds of the girl's mom being in Gotham still were thin, and even if they located her the chance that she'd want Jane in her life was even slimmer. Jane seemed so sure her birth mom would want her, and it killed Jason to think of the inevitable heartbreak. He refused to think about how much it would hurt him if her mom _did_ want her back.

“Jay!” Jane popped up from the floor, bouncing from foot to foot in her new sneakers. Tim had brought the clothes that had come to his old hideout, after Cassandra had passed them on. Apparently she had nearly given the delivery woman a heart attack.

“Yeah?” He was sure that IKEA was probably part of Trigon's cult, because the instructions were starting to look more and more like demonic scribbles.

“When are we gonna go meet everybody?”

Jason carefully folded the instructions, deciding to take a break before his brain broke. He'd caught Jane eavesdropping towards the end of his conversation with Tim, though she'd stayed hidden on the staircase. He hadn't really known what to do with the girls but he wasn't really keen on bringing them along for it. The meeting was scheduled for mid morning, when they all knew Bruce would be out cold with the _good_ sleeping pills Alfred was going to slip him.

Alfred had been incensed at Bruce's behavior once he'd been informed by Barbara and had been biding his time. Leslie had also been instrumental in procuring the sedative, entirely too cheerful to hand over the bottle of pills. Jason promised himself he was _never_ going to get on either of their bad sides collectively _ever,_ if he could possibly help it.

Being in the daytime, Charlie wasn't going to be able to watch the girls. He still hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Gargoyle, which made him worry that he'd not gotten his message.

“Uh, I don't know. I was thinking it might be safer if you stayed here.” Jason hated the way Jane's face shut down, going from excited to dismayed in seconds. She chewed her bottom lip, dejected.

“S'ok.” She mumbled. “M'sorry.”

“For what? You didn't do anything wrong.” He nudged her chin up so she would look him in the face. “I promise, you **will** get to meet them. But I need to talk to them first and lay some ground rules, to protect you.”

“Are they mad at me?” She wrung the hem of her blue plaid button up, obviously worried.

“No, not at all. Just... well, you know what I do, right?”

“Yeah... You punch bad guys.” She nodded.

“Uh, yeah, and a lot more. My family is really complicated, and they don't understand boundaries sometimes.” He struggled with the explanation, because how do you explain Batman to a _normal_ eight year old _. “_ Before I let _them_ meet **you** , I gotta make sure they are on the same page when it comes to how I want to keep you safe.”

She seemed to accept it, though she was still a bit pouty. He ruffled her hair before stooping to pick up Lizzie. She clung like a happy koala when he propped her on his hip.

“Is he gonna be there too?” She asked, trailing behind him as he went downstairs to make them some sandwiches for lunch.

“Who?”

Jane fidgeted.

“The pretty boy.” She said shyly and Jason almost dropped the jar of peanut butter. Lizzie squealed, obviously enjoying chaos.

“Huh??”

Jane looked annoyed, crossing her arms.

“I dunno his name, you won't tell me!” She pouted.

“His name is Deadmeat.” Jason muttered darkly.

“That can't be his name!” She threw her hands up, but didn't push the matter any farther. She gave him a peevish glance as she took her pb&j to the empty living room, plopping down to eat by the window. Jason resisted the urge to bang his head against the cabinet, instead carding his hand into Lizzie's hair, stroking it back into place. Static cling had caused it to stand up making her look like an imp.

“ _ No boys or girls, till you're married and I'm dead. _ ” He whispered to her, but it may as well have gone for both of them.

Alfred took on the task of watching the girls during their meeting. Lizzie was already comfortable with him and Jason trusted him implicitly with Jane. For her part, Jane was still put out that she couldn't go, but when Alfred had unveiled the baked goods in the basket he'd brought over she'd changed her tune. He took Alfred aside as Jane began to unpack the goodies, showing them to Lizzie one by one, and thanked him.

“Master Jason, you should always know that I am here for you.” Alfred waved him off, shooing him. “You should make haste, while the little ones are occupied. Otherwise it might make it hard to leave.”

Jason fumbled a little, uncomfortable at the notion of leaving them without a goodbye. Alfred nudged him to the door and he sighed, zipping his leather jacket up.

“Tell them I'll be back soon.” He whispered.

“Of course.” Alfred's mustache twitched in amusement. “They will be fine and you will be back before you both know it.”

God, he hoped so.

The drive was longer than usual thanks to the clunky sedan he drove instead of his sleek, easy-to-weave-through-traffic motorcycle. He parked several blocks away from the tower, paranoia eating away at him. Even sedated and miles away, Bruce's shadow could still be felt cast over him like a judgmental God. It wasn't until he was inside the tower and stepping out of the elevator that he relaxed a little.

Dick was the one who answered the door, looking infuriatingly put together and clean shaven. Jason had shaved that morning but it wasn't like he had time to make it a super close one, having to take care of two kids and somehow manage to shit, shave and shower himself inbetween. He shouldered his way inside, surprised that he was the last one to arrive. Tim was seated on Barbara's well worn couch, Cass and Steph on either side. Duke was absent, stationed at the manor as a backup to keep a watchful eye on Bruce.

“Uh.” He hadn't expected Kate to be there. She flicked her gaze over to him before shrugging.

“Where are the kids?” Steph asked, spoon hanging out of her mouth. She and Cass were eating what looked like pints of Haagen Daz and he was cutting them out of the will for not saving him any.

“Safe.” He said quietly. “I see Tim already informed everybody.” He gave the younger man a glare.

“Actually, it was me too.” Dick said sheepishly. “Tim just finished filling us in about Jane.”

Barbara finished her current task and turned around in her chair, pulling her headphones down to hang around her neck. Jason heaved a put upon sigh and bowed his head.

“I'm sorry Babs.”

“You better be. If you'd told me what was going on, I could have run interference with B, and we could have avoided him being...”

“A massive asshole?” Jason finished, glowering.

“Anal.” Barbara smirked.

“Anyway.” Jason waved a hand. “Tim said I should talk to everyone about how to move forward. I want to make it clear I am not letting Bruce anywhere near these kids, period. Neither of them are going to ever be a suit, so absolutely NO talk about work around them. No teaching them weird shit like flips,” He glared at Dick. “Or hacking,” Tim and Barbara frowned. “Or any other work-related stuff.”

Stephanie raised her hand.

“Yeah?”

“What are we gonna do about Damian?” She twirled her spoon with flourish, breezing past the first order of business and barreled straight into the bigger problem. Jason groaned in tandem with Dick and Tim.

“We can't just not tell him.” Dick mused. “I mean, Jane is how old? It might do them both some good to have another kid to talk to.”

“Damian is not just  _ another kid, _ Dick.” Tim pointed out.

“Hell no, I ain't letting Stabby McStabberson near my girls.” He narrowed his eyes to slits, angry just thinking about Damian scaring them with his patent brand of award winning personality.

“He's not that bad--” Dick's rebuttal sounded weak, but he shrugged in defeat. “What if we confiscate his weapons before introducing them?”

“Nah, with my luck Jane'll think he's  _ pretty _ .” Jason snorted, before jabbing a finger at Tim. “She's already calling him  _ Pretty Boy _ .”

“Girl has taste.” Steph laughed, teasing. “Come on Jay, he is pretty.”

“Uuuugh.” Jason buried his face in his hands, groaning. Tim made a face at Steph before he turned back to his laptop. He didn't seem upset at the situation, always focused on the matter at hand.

“I have done some digging, turned up some leads. The adoption was closed so I'll have to physically break in to the records office to find the documents. I did find out who her parents were though. Turns out they died in one of Joker's gas attacks last fall.” Tim hurried onwards, as everyone tensed at Jason's murderous expression. “She was sent back into the system because her surviving grandparents were living in a nursing home and ruled unfit to care for her. She disappeared eight months ago from a foster house that caters to taking care of large groups of children at a time. She wasn't noticed missing for two months.” Tim paused. “I already sent the packets to authorities, they should be under investigation now.”

“Where is it?” Jason asked carefully.

“Jason, let the police handle this.” Dick warned. He was unphased by the rude hand gesture sent his way. The man paced to the sound of Tim typing. “So next order of business?”

“B is going to know something major is up after tonight.” Jason popped open the minifridge by Babara's desk, pulling a longneck out for himself. The cap came off easily with a flip of his thumb and he took a long swallow before wiping his mouth on his forearm. “I am serious about keeping him away from the girls. After what he did to me-- to _us_ , I would rather die than let him have a part in their life.”

It was a difficult thing to say, especially in a room of bats that still flocked at the manor. He steeled himself, waiting. As expected, Dick was the first to argue.

“Jay, he's not that bad.” Dick tried, spreading his arms to gesture. “I get it, I do, but you're making it sound like he'd hit them. He wouldn't--”

“He _would_ and he _has_.” Jason cut him off, voice low. “I know the lot of you think I deserved the beat downs he's given me over the years because of my methods. But he smacked you around when you were Robin, Dick-- and don't even pretend to forget him _punching Tim_ for trying to comfort him when Selina rightfully ran the fuck away from him at the altar.”

There was a collective cringe.

“Let's not forget the crippling emotional abuse!” Stephanie chimed in, her lips curved upwards entirely too far up to be considered anything but a smile. She tossed her empty ice cream carton into the trashcan, her bubbly demeanor cutting through the severity of Jason's point. “I'm in agreement with Jay. Bruce needs to step the fuck off. He's had his share of raising kids and the scientific evidence has proven him pretty much unfit. If he was say, running a foster home like the one Jane was in, would we not shut it down?”

Dick and Tim both looked at one another, and Jason knew he'd won.

“Besides, we can try and find Jane's mom, but the baby is Jay's kid.” Stephanie gave Jason a shit eating grin. “You sly dog you.”

Jason spluttered, suddenly remembering he hadn't told anyone about Lizzie-- except Leslie, who he knew would keep it mum.

“He won't tell me who her mom is.” Dick latched onto the tease-train, all too glad to find another topic besides Bruce's abusive history. He slung an arm over Jason's shoulders, even though he had to stand on tiptoe to do it. Jason let him mess up his hair, fingers affectionate at they tousled the white stripe in his hairline.

“I thought it was Talia, but he said it's not.” Tim added helpfully. Barbara rose a brow, and Jason scrambled desperately to come up with something to avoid them looking into it too closely. He'd covered the tracks well, but he still was paranoid. Well, the trick to fooling someone with a lie was to sprinkle just enough grains of truth within it.

“Sharon.” He muttered.

“Huh?” Dick grinned wider.

“Her name is Sharon.”

“Oh?” Dick waggled his brows. “So where is Sharon now?”

“Dead.” Jason stared at his boots. “I came home from patrol and she'd been attacked in the alley by her previous John. I had to cut Lizzie out of her.” His connections with the working girls were well known, so it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibilities for Jason to have a 'relationship' with one. It gave him some leeway in case anyone decided to dig into it further.

He was unprepared for Dick plastering him with a hug, all the breath getting squeezed out of him. The rest looked horrified, though Cass was watching at him so intently he knew she'd sussed him out. To his surprise she didn't rat on him. Instead she stood and hugged him from the other side, her small frame solid and rock steady.

 _She knew_ , but still took his side anyway. He hadn't lied, except by omission and she'd accepted it, trusting his judgment. Like a dog starved for affection, he leaned into her embrace to show his relief, but disguised it as trying to get away from Dick who was getting too emotional.

“Are you wiping your snot on me??”

“Shut up, it's your fault for not telling me.” Dick sniffed, stubborness etched over his brow. “Why the hell didn't you tell me Jay?”

“Because there's nothing you could have done.” Jason pushed him away, scowling at the wet patch on his shoulder. “I handled it.”

“Did you...”

“I didn't kill him.” Jason snapped. “I stapled him to GCPD like a good little boy. Don't keep talking about him or I might just change my mind.”

Barbara handed Dick a box of tissues, sighing.

“I'll get to work on getting her paperwork in order.” She paused.

“Elizabeth Todd.” Jason told her. “Born September 3rd.”

Damian was furious.

“Where is Alfred?” He seethed, when he found Duke at the kitchen counter making a triple decker sandwich. The older teen didn't let the attitude get to him, barely pausing as he scraped some mayonnaise out of the bottom of the jar. Damian's patience wore thin as he watched him slather the bread.

“Answer me.”

“He's out.” Duke shrugged. He squished the sandwich layers together, before slicing the entire thing into two triangles. There was no way he was telling Damian anything, because he simply didn't know. Dick had told him something was going on between Jason and Bruce again, and it was better to keep him out of it till it was settled. _Hard to be blamed for anything if you were out of the loop_ , the senior ex-Robin had joked. They did this a lot to Duke, and while he would be offended it was often what saved his ass when Bruce was in a tiff. So he trusted Dick's judgement and let it slide.

Alfred had left after dropping off Bruce's daily paper and disgusting glass of wheatgrass juice, and instructed Duke to make sure the older man did not leave the manor. Apparently he'd been drugged for his own good, or at least that is what Alfred's wry little smirk told him.

Which Duke could understand. The Batman had been running himself ragged the last few weeks and after Justice League missions on top of chasing a freshly escaped Joker, Bruce was deep in debt to the Bank of Sleep. He watched as Damian slapped the half of sandwich out of his hand and onto the floor.

“Rude.” He snorted.

“Where. is. he.” Damian hissed, and Duke understood Jason on a deep personal level when he called the Wayne apparent a spoiled little gremlin. He took a bite out of the other half of his sandwich, taking his time. Damian simmered and stewed before him, nostrils flaring and a flush of red creeping up his neckline in his growing rage.

“Like anyone tells me these things.” Duke replied after he swallowed, jerking his sandwich out of Damian's reach before he could knock it out of his hand again. He might get angry if he did that. He was hungry.

“You are so worthless, why father bothers with you lot when he has me is beyond my comprehension.” Damian snarled, whirling away and all but stomping out of the kitchen.

Duke sighed, wondering if Dick was possibly up for sainthood having raised that kid on his own while Bruce was gone. Finishing up his meal, he grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and headed back up to Bruce's room where he would sit at his bedside and work on some cases in the meantime. At least this Wayne wouldn't be conscious.

Sometimes he felt like an outsider looking in, watching the Wayne family be the absolute trainwreck the tabloids would love to prove they are. They should make a reality tv show, if they ever hung up the capes. They'd be better than the Kardashians, only with knives.

He was fine with his status amongst the bats though, because when shit went south, he stayed north and was able to stay high above the backlash that surged up occasionally. Unlike Tim, he knew to stay the hell out of Bruce and Jason's fights. Everyone would complain to him about the drama though, which prompted him to just send tons of Kermit-sipping-sweet-tea memes much to their dismay.

He liked Jason, really he did.

He wished the prodigal son would just talk to Bruce. The family didn't really talk enough. Sure, they _spoke_ but there was a difference between giving people ultimatums or lectures and actually having a _conversation_. The fact that Alfred was gone from the manor today gave him a bit of hope. If anyone could get things settled down, Alfred could.

Cracking open the Coke, he perched himself on the chaise lounge by Bruce's bedroom window and waited for his laptop to boot up. A robin landed on the sill, fluffing up as the wind rose. He tapped the window, startling it off the ledge into flight, swooping after a small flock in the distant sky.

He really hoped the others had a plan in place to keep Damian in check. He couldn't stop the kid any more than he could stop a freight train off the rails. Unfortunately, he heard the sound of a car roaring down the driveway, the impatient kid taking matters into his own hands.

Duke heaved a put upon sigh and pulled out his phone, watching as the tracker for Bruce's black Maserati left the premises. Taking a screenshot, he sent Tim a text along with a picture of[ Cat-No-Banana](https://66.media.tumblr.com/b91749089daa983186f2fbade76294d9/tumblr_p4h90sEiYR1txtjqno2_250.png).

He received a picture of Spongebob, the meme of **[BREATHE-IN-and-BOI](https://pics.me.me/thumb_breath-in-boi-me-when-someone-tries-to-tell-me-37968830.png).** Snickering, he went back to his work his duty done. The only Wayne he was responsible for today was Bruce. He was confident the others could handle _Boi_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick: B--  
> Batman: *PIMP SLAP* I'M TRYIN TO KEEP YOU SAFE  
> Dick: :D OK BOSS! *shoots Rainbows out of his perfect butt*
> 
> Jason: *does what Jasons do*  
> Batman: *BEATS HIM DOWN*  
> Jason: LOL YOU AIN'T HIT JOKER LIKE THIS  
> Batman: DDDDDDD: *BEAT DOWN INTENSIFIES*  
> Jason: Fuck you Broose
> 
> Tim: *comfort mode activated*  
> Batman: *PUNCH IN THE MUNCH* YOU DON'T UNNERSTAND NOTHIN'  
> Tim: *still somehow cares about this man enough to take care of his family, run his company, and fight his war at the expense of his own social life, his health, and his sanity. Hunty get you a man like Timbers he needs someone to actually love him*
> 
> Steph: *punches Batman*  
> Batman: x_o  
> Steph: *runs while the gettings good*
> 
> Steph>Batman.
> 
> Sorry but my take on Bruce in this story is he's a fucking mess. He's made mistakes, hasn't owned up to them when it comes to his family, and thinks he's the only one who is logical and in control enough to make decisions for the family. He's gonna learn that sometimes, you don't get what you want. And family isn't something to withold love and affection from to get your way either.   
> So, basically, my Bruce here is a mix of the comicsBruce being a shit bag, but with the hope of redemption from the animated series Bruce. :) He'll get there, I promise.
> 
> Hope you guys liked the chapter, hopefully I'll get to write more soon!


	6. Chapter 6

It had taken Jane exactly five minutes to realize Jason had left the house after the young man had pulled out of the driveway. Alfred remained at his post in the kitchen, having brought in several appliances for Jason's culinary use. He heard her frantically running from window to window in the living room, checking for any sign of the man or his car. Over the years he'd heard similar actions from Master Dick and on occasion, Master Jason.

Unlike the boys, who would become quite morose or even irate at being left behind, Jane's reaction was subtle but all the more visceral.

“It's ok Lizzie.” Jane's quiet murmur could be heard, as the young babe squealed and babbled from her newly set up playpen. “I won't let nobody hurt you. He'll be back. He has to come back... He wouldn't leave you behind!”

Alfred's heart broke.

He calmly finished unboxing the cherry red Kitchen Aid mixer, the largest model for home use available. When he finished breaking down the box for disposal, he turned to find Jane watching him from the doorway, her light blue eyes sharp and alert. Without Jason there to act as a buffer between them, she was reverting back to a wary street child.

It killed him to think any child should have to live like that. There was a reason he did not begrudge Jason his homicidal past. Messy as it was, the heads of drug dealers in a dufflebag didn't upset him as much as the crime scene photos of dead or abused children in Gotham. No matter how much Bruce tried to differentiate himself from his villains, he'd even said himself that this was a war.

Wars got people killed.

Jason killed the kind of people who were animals that needed to be put down and Alfred knew a little bit about that from personal experience in the service of her majesty.

“Miss Jane, would you like to have some tea?” He offered, hiding his smile when she peered a little more fully around the doorframe in her curiosity. She came to stand at the kitchen island, peering over the counter, just tall enough to see over it. He'd already put the electric kettle on for himself, but he made a show out of setting up the teapot and china for her. She'd clamored onto one of the tall barstool chairs that Tim had ordered for them, watching in rapt fascination as he went through the motions of brewing a perfect cup.

Her apprehension was forgotten as he taught her the right water temperature and brewing times for each type of tea, how much cream and sugar to use, and showed her the proper way to hold a teacup.

With a finger sandwich in one small hand and a cup of tea in the other Jane looked almost like a modern day Alice. She tasted the cucumber sandwich daintily and then eagerly devoured it when she found the flavor to her liking. Watching her sent Alfred back, when Jason had first arrived at Wayne Manor. The boy had eaten everything put before him with the tenancity of a feral cat, eating only mere mouthfuls slowly to test it at first and steadily picking up speed until he was wolfing the entire plate down without chewing. He hadn't been a very picky eater, until there was an onion on the plate though.

Jane nearly dropped her cup when she heard Lizzie begin to cry, all but launching off her chair. The suddeness of it nearly made Alfred drop his own cup, watching as she flew to the little one's side. He came to the playpen's other end and lifted the baby out, not missing how Jane's knuckles went white on the edge of the pen as she gripped it.

The rest of the afternoon Alfred did his best to keep Lizzie in Jane's line of sight at all times, alleviating the child's anxiety. She was trying to hide her fear, probably thinking she was doing a good job of it with her funny jokes and bright smiles but Alfred knew better. He'd seen eyes like hers before.

Jason had to admit it was nice to have someone to come home to. He dropped his keys in his haste to catch the little girl that rocketed into his torso, his hands carefully grabbing her little waist to keep her from falling. Jane hugged him tight, her arms too small to meet around his middle so she settled for burying her fists into the butter soft leather of his brown jacket. She didn't let go even after several seconds, so Jason resigned himself to carrying her back towards the kitchen where he could hear Alfred cleaning.

Shifting the girl into one arm, she linked her arms about his neck and began to excitedly tell him about her afternoon, from her tea party to Lizzie having an impromptu photo session.

“Is it ok?” Jane whispered, lowering her voice in a way that wasn't exactly quiet.

“Yeah, it's ok. Alfie is allowed to take pictures.” Jason winked at her. “Did Alfie do your hair?” He tugged playfully at one of the artfully curled pigtails Jane was sporting. She nodded, flushing happily as she turned her head to and fro, showing off. The hairbands were pink and blue, with two large sparkly beads to decorate them.

“Looks good.” He complimented her honestly, before shouldering into the kitchen. He faltered, blinking rapidly at the kitchen. When he'd left it had been bare, with only a stove, fridge and few barstools in it. Now in the span of an afternoon, Alfred had stocked his kitchen with every gadget that would make even Gordon Ramsey jealous.

Then he noticed the fridge was no longer bare. On the door, near the top, there were round, magnetized containers full of spices. Solemnly he set Jane down next to Lizzie's highchair and walked purposefully towards Alfred with long strides. The old man made a whooshing noise as Jason all but bear hugged him in his appreciation.

“Alfie you are the best. You got me _spices_!”

Alfred's feet dangled an inch off the floor but the old man took the manhandling well enough, patting Jason's broad back gently.

“Yes, I know how hard it is to shop with little ones in tow, so I took the time to stock your pantries with the essentials.” Alfred chuckled. “You will need to buy meats and dairy, but you should be able to tide over for a few days.”

Jason squeezed him a little harder before he dropped him back down and let go.

“Thanks Alfie.” Jason swallowed back the lump in his throat, glancing at Lizzie. She was sitting in the highchair, giggling as Jane tickled her and blew raspberries.

“She's a very happy child.” Alfred told him, going to the oven and setting the temperature. Jason spied a prepped chicken in a pan atop the stove, slathered in butter and thyme and stuffed to the brim with garlic and lemon slices. His stomach growled it's approval and he kissed Lizzie's chubby cheek loudly, making her laugh again.

“That's my little Sunshine.” He quipped, plucking her out of the chair and cuddling her close. Jane climbed into a stool and watched Alfred cook, before she finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“So what did your family say?” She leaned her chin on her little palm.

“Uh...” Jason paused in mid spin with Lizzie, glancing at Alfred. The old man was watching him with a raised brow.

“They said that they are going to accept my terms.” Jason put Lizzie back in her highchair, finding a rattle for her to play with. “So you should be meeting them all soon. They are really excited to meet you.” Jason slung a leg over the stool next to Jane and sat next to her. “Pretty Boy said he'd come by tomorrow and hang out with you while I sleep.”

“That can't be his name!” Jane complained, practically laying half her body onto the kitchen island, whining.

“Believe me, it might as well be.” Jason rolled his eyes.

“His name is Timothy, but I'm sure he won't mind if you call him Tim.” Alfred ruined Jason's fun.

“Call him _Timbers_ , he likes that name.” Jason whispered, shrinking under Alfred's stern stare. “Ok, ok, just call him Tiny Tim.” He snickered. Jane stared at him with round eyes, cocking her head.

“How come?” She asked, blinking.

“Cause he's like...the tiniest.” He gestured to below his shoulder, where Tim's height would reach. It was a little exaggerated, and definitely shorter than Tim actually was. “The tiniest little Bat of the Bat clan.”

Jane's eyes grew even wider, and Jason was impressed. Kid had a hell of a doe-eyed look that was gonna be a knock out when she grew up.

“Is he Robin???” She kneeled on her chair, bouncing excitedly.

“Uh... no. Tim's not Robin. Well, not Robin-Robin. He's Red Robin now.” Jason waffled to explain, checking Alfred's progress on the dinner. The man hadn't turned around to scold him again so he was probably safe.

“ _What the butt is a Red Robin_?” Jane whisper shouted and squinted, as if she could puzzle out the mystery by sheer force.

Jason would never admit in a million years that she had him laughing so hard he brayed like a jackass.

Bruce woke punch drunk and groggy, feeling like he did after pulling six all-nighters in a row during particularly rough casework. He grimaced into his pillow, feeling the slimy wetness around his chin and the sogginess of his pillowcase. He didn't drool. Not unless he was drugged.

“Alfreeed...” He growled, mashing his face harder into the pillow. He waited for the inevitable snarky reply from his butler, only to be disappointed when he was met with silence. Alfred never left his side whenever he slipped him a sedative, or at least he'd never woken up from one without him there.

He eventually pulled his face out of the warm pillow and observed his master bedroom. At the window, Duke was quietly typing on his laptop, headphones snugly settled over his ears. He paused to grab a bag of jolly ranchers and search for a yellow one.

“Duke.” He sat up on the side of the bed, planting his feet.

The boy noticed him, yanking down his headphones.

“Bruce!” He smiled. “You're up early.”

It was four pm. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Duke withered a little, before he held up both hands in defeat.

“Hey, man, I don't know nothin'. They just told me to keep an eye on you in case you sleep walked or something.”

“They?” Bruce growled.

“I don't know a thing.” Duke sing-sang, pulling his headphones back on. He probably didn't, Bruce deducted, since this wasn't the first time the others had used Duke as a buffer. It was clever but they couldn't keep him from finding out what he wanted to know for long.

He took his time in the shower, and Duke was gone when he returned to his room to dress. Alfred had obviously returned in the meantime, his work out wear laid out neatly at the base of his freshly made bed. As he warmed up in the cave's gym, he promised himself he was going to have a serious discussion with Dick about his trust fund and then hand Tim the responsibility of babysitting Damian while he went on his business trip next week.

He wasn't stupid enough to try and punish Alfred, but he figured the Butler would get over whatever had angered him if he just kept a low profile. The gears were already turning in his head, calculating the likelihood of what had transpired while he was unconscious. It was obvious now that everyone was aware of what Jason was up to, and surprisingly was willing to go the extra mile to keep it from him.

That did not bode well at all.

Bruce adjusted the weights before he began his reps, his body on autopilot as he turned the problem over trying to see all the angles it presented. It was rare to see his team working together in such solidarity with Jason. Some were more sympathetic than others, but they all knew better than to protect Jason when he was doing something outside the lines that they'd agreed on.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling his muscles begin to burn as he neared the end of the last set. He all but dropped the barbell onto the rack, a scowl beginning to form. If everyone was forming a circle around Jason, then he couldn't be killing again. Dick wouldn't tolerate it. So what was going on that Jason was so desperate to keep a secret from him, and in the process drag the others into it?

As much as Bruce operated on secrets and withholding knowledge, he had thought it was clear that no one was to leave him out of the loop. If they had secrets he wasn't aware of, he couldn't trust them and that would be detrimental to the mission.

He suited up, drawing the cowl over his face last. A deep scowl had already etched over his jaw as he drew close to the Batmobile, noting that Damian was not already geared up and in the passenger seat. It was doubtful that the boy was sided with Jason, as he'd always been vocal of his disapproval for Bruce's propensity to pick up anyone and induct them into Robin. With Dick's participation however, it was a fifty-fifty chance Damian would begrudgingly get involved.

Bruce did his pre-patrol check in the Batmobile cockpit, running through the various controls with ease. If anyone was going to be the weak link in the chain Jason had seemingly woven between his team, it would be Damian. The boy was his son afterall, and with the right pressure he would break the news soon enough. Jason was a stubborn man but he should know better by now, Bruce reasoned. Nobody kept secrets from the Batman.

Not even Jason Todd.

Damian broke the nose of another one of Joker's goons, flipping over the crumpled waste of human flesh easily. It was almost like meditating for him to smash flesh and bone into a pulp, especially when he was in need of centering himself. He was not happy with Dick _or_ Alfred and it was better for him to work out his rage on something before he confronted either of them.

He'd arrived home from school and found his father sedated. His father had been investigating Todd's activities and was becoming alarmed at how much the young man had dropped off the radar despite being told he could only operate in the city if he _kept them in the loop_. What was worse was that Dick and Alfred had been involved in helping the ex-Robin keep his secrets.

Damian finished zip tying the thugs to a streetlight and called in the location to the police. He waited only until he heard the squad car sirens before he grappled away to the nearest rooftop. Once he lighted on it, he paced impatiently as he waited for his father.

“ _Where have you been_?” The low growl nearly made him twitch, but his training held. Turning with reserve he sniffed indignantly.

“Doing my job. Unlike the rest of your motley crew.” He gestured to the street below where the police were rounding up the spoils of his victory. “The Joker has been escaped for a week now, and I found some of his lackeys milling the entertainment district. I believe they were looking to either rob the retailers or worse.” He'd come across them by chance though he'd never say that aloud. His father narrowed his gaze.

“Worse...?” He echoed.

“The big, mutilated freak with one arm was too interested in that arcade over there.” Damian sneered. “I interrupted them from going inside.”

The arcade was full of people, most of whom crowded by the door to watch the spectacle of Joker gang members being thrown into the back of the police van. It did not escape notice that most of the customers were around Damian's age.

“We need to find him and get him off the streets. **Tonight**.” Batman pulled out his grapple gun and adjusted the settings. “He's never very far from the center of action, and I think I have a good idea where he could be hiding now.” He shot the grapple and swung down, heading for the tall department store where a new toy retailer had opened two weeks prior.

As the store's sign came into view, a gentle looking clown mascot plastered across it, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a bland chapter, but meh. Bruce is difficult to write, because I don't *want* him to be a giant butthole. But he totally has to be for this story.   
> Hope you guys enjoyed it anyway, I am gonna try and make it a little more action packed next time. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**They didn't find him.**

Bruce was in a mood so foul that even the air around him seemed dark when they returned to the cave in the wee hours of dawn. He didn't want to stop the search but there were meetings he had to attend at eight am sharp, and had a lunch conference call with his favorite billionaire rival in the whole wide world, _Lex Luthor_. He despised the man and everything he stood for but if he wanted access to Lexcorp he needed to collaborate with the asshole.

With Tim stuck in the meetings as well, Damian out of sick days for his school attendance and Dick not answering his calls, Bruce had to make a decision. He flung his cape and cowl over the work table as he passed, shedding various bits of the uniform as he went. Normally he would inspect and refill his gear of essentials but he was too busy and it would keep. He had spares of his spares as back up after all.

The Joker had been at the toy store recently, leaving bombs not unlike the one that had killed Jason. They'd disarmed them quickly, following a wild goose chase through the city to deactivate countless more. The trail had gone cold at the sewers near Cobblepot's old territory after they finished defusing the last bomb. With dawn approaching, they'd been forced to call it a night.

Joker targeting children, hidden bombs, Jason keeping _secrets_ that threatened to pry the seams of his patience apart, and Lex Luthor _starting shit_. When it rained it poured in Gotham City. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as the bat computer dialed up a familiar but rarely used number.

“Batwoman.” Kate Kane replied, entirely too awake for the little bit of sunlight dawning above the cave.

“ _It's Joker._ ” He didn't need to explain to her why he wanted her help. _“_ I need you to seek out any information to his whereabouts. I'm sending the case files now.” He directed the casework into folders and sent them.

“Well, hello to you too.” She didn't sound annoyed but he could tell something was on her mind. He faintly heard the ping of her notification pop up. “Also, did it occur to you that I might have a case I'm on already?”

“Joker is a priority over anything else right now.” He snapped. They knew this.

“ _Of course_ he is.”

“If you have something to say, just say it. I don't have time for passive aggressive nonsense.” He stalked up the staircase half tempted to call his secretary and cancel his day, Luthor's scheming be damned. Of course Kate would be part of his family's deception.

“You're really pushing the line, Bruce.” Kate's frown could be heard through the call.

“Pardon?” He asked.

“Look, I get it.” She sighed. “I get that you are concerned about what's going on with Jason. I'm not telling you anything specific, but he's not breaking your rules. So please, leave it be.”

“I don't leave anything alone until I have the facts to make a decision about that.” Bruce didn't touch the glass of kale juice and vitamins that Alfred had left at his bedside. “He knows he cannot operate in Gotham without--”

“This isn't about work, _this is personal_.” Kate was abrupt, final in her tone and it was like a glass of ice water thrown in his face. “And I'm starting to see why the hell he doesn't want you within a hundred miles of his personal life. Let me just say that you're going to not only lose him, but your other sons as well if you don't stop this shit.”

Bruce didn't know what to say for once. _Personal life_? He realized abruptly that he didn't know a thing about Jason's life outside the purview of the mission. Unlike Dick, Jason had never had much of a social life outside of his cape.

Out of them all, Jason was a lot like him when it came to work ethic even if they had different ideas of what the mission entailed. Back in his days as Robin he loathed being forced to take nights off when he was sick or had school. Jason was the only one besides Damian to stick to his method of keeping outsiders out and only working within the family.

Now he was... apart and alone.

An image of Jason standing in the snow with his short cape bundled around his shoulders, a dopey smile on his lips while he watched Wonder Woman walk away came to Bruce unbidden.

“Is he seeing someone?” Bruce asked, voice softer than he meant it to be.

“I'm not telling you shit.” Kate sounded exasperated, but it was no longer cold. “But I am going to tell you that you need to turn the pointy ears off for once and trust Jason. I can personally promise you that he's not up to his old tricks.”

“We don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to that.” Bruce sat heavily on his bed, plucking his tie off the nightstand. He really needed to get ready for work.

“The thing about records is that you can't change them, but you can always make a new one.” She hummed. “I've got to get going. Just think about it, ok?”

Bruce closed his eyes, thinking about blood on a crowbar.

“I...” He swallowed. “Let me know if you turn up anything.”

“Will do. Goodbye Bruce.” She cut the line, leaving him alone and still no closer to finding out what Jason was up to. He could take her advice but God knew where it would get him. Jason always let him down, why should this time be any different?

He pushed away and compartmentalized the intrusive thought that he'd let Jason down first. Then he dressed and left for his meetings, his attention focused on work to mute the snide voice in his mind that sounded like a little boy from the Bowry.

Dick decided to invite himself over while Tim was at work. Because of course he would. Jason stared at him on the doorstep, eyelids drooping under the weight of his furrowed brows.

“Dickhead I can only handle--” A huge yawn cracked his jaw. “One bat per day. That's my quota.” He glared halfheartedly when Dick acted as though he couldn't hear.

“Little Wing, you look tired.” He threw an arm around Jason's shoulders and manhandled him back into the house. “Tim texted, said he was gonna be late. So I decided to come babysit while he's occupied.” He told him brightly.

“That little bat-fink told you where I was.” Jason grouched.

“ _That little bat-fink_ is having to sit in a meeting with B right now, taking the heat for our little stunt with the sedatives.” Dick reminded him. “Besides, I missed Lizard Breath.”

“You are NOT calling her that!” Jason bellowed, as Dick ran ahead of him to the living room.

“Lizzie!”

Jason bit the inside of his cheek when Lizzie screeched happily at the sight of Dick, reaching her chubby little hands out when he reached for her in the playpen. He tossed her lightly into the air and had he been anyone else Jason would have killed him. But it was Dick, and he had been in the air doing flips since he was in the womb.

Lizzie's laugh was bubbly and joyful, Dick's playful energy contagious enough to wind her up as well. He kissed her cheeks and cuddled her tight, grinning as she found a handhold in his hair and began tugging it with the strength of a little she-woman.

“Ow...ow...owowow....” Dick complained good naturedly but didn't try to extract her. “Dang, she's gonna give Wonder Woman a run for her money one day.”

“She's just in that stage.” Jason shrugged, falling onto the couch like a bag of bricks. He was too tired to really do more than sprawl. “Don't tell Timbers, I wanna see her yank his hair out.”

“Lizzie wouldn't--” Dick trailed off, something catching his eye. “Oh? And who is this young lady?”

Jason rubbed his face, blearily glancing to the doorway where Jane was peeping from. She'd been in her new bedroom most of the morning, buried in her closet of clothing. When he'd checked on her an hour ago, she was laying out outfits, trying to decide what to wear. Just being the little girl that she was. It had been so cute he'd snuck a quick photo before leaving her to it.

She came out of hiding, hands wringing the hem of her dark blue hoodie. When she spied that it wasn't 'Pretty Boy' she looked surprised. Completely ignoring Dick's greeting she tromped quickly to Jason's side and hopped up beside him on the couch. Her hand fisted the side of his tank top for support, her shoulder pressed to his ribcage.

He and Dick exchanged a look, before Jason nudged her gently.

“Jane, I want you to meet Dick. He's--”

“I'm Jay's big brother! So that makes me your uncle.” Dick exclaimed, plopping his perfect ass down on the coffee table with his legs crossed lotus style because he was more pretzel than human. He placed Lizzie in his lap, letting her lean back against him, supported by his washboard taut stomach. Jane clutched Jason's shirt a little tighter, drawing her knees up to her chest as she peered at the older man in a way that was more appraising than friendly.

“H'lo...” Jane said quietly, looking at Lizzie furtively before looking back to Dick's face.

“It's nice to meet you Jane.” Dick didn't let her caginess bother him, and held out his hand to her. “Jason told us you were looking for your Mom. So I wanted to let you know that I'm gonna help too.”

Jane looked to Jason sharply, before she let him go. She took Dick's hand and shook it, staring at her knees as she did so.

“Dick.” Jason jerked his chin to the kitchen. “Alfie stocked up on Captain Crunch, why don't you go get some?”

Dick's brow raised before he nodded, heading out to the kitchen with Lizzie crooked in one arm.

“Everything ok?” Jason asked Jane when he was gone.

“...Yeah.” Jane leaned against him suddenly as if trying to burrow under his arm. “You...You really gonna find her?”

“That's the plan. I wanted to tell you myself but Dick just...” Jason sighed.

She wouldn't look him in the face and Jason remembered what Alfred had told him about their visit. When he'd first found her she'd been precocious and cautious and even now she still was. Anxiety was beginning to take a toll on her, having now tasted ' _the good life'_ she was probably terrified of losing the stability Jason offered her. He'd wanted to break something when Alfred told him that she exhibited some of the same signs of abuse that he had.

Jason turned and scooped the little girl up onto his lap, squeezing her tight in a hug he knew she needed. She squeaked in surprise, big blue eyes finally looking up at him.

“I'm not gonna leave you.” He said firmly, pulling back a little so she could see he was serious. “I'm going to help you find your mom, and I promise I'm not gonna leave you even after I find her, ok?”

Jane nodded, holding it together for a beat longer before tears rolled down her cheeks in shiny tracks. She tilted forward, forehead thumping against his collarbone as she sobbed herself out, hiccuping and sniffling as he rubbed her small back to reassure her.

He felt as wrung out as she did, knowing just what she was feeling. He'd felt like this the day he'd stepped foot into the batcave and started wearing the tragic traffic cone suit. She didn't feel a need to prove herself like he had, but she still felt the insecurity of not knowing how long the good times were going to last. Because good times were fleeting and never panned out for kids like them.

“Wha...What if she...” Jane hiccuped, hands wiping the neverending tears from her eyes. “What if she doesn't whu-want m-me...???”

“ _I want you._ ” Jason told her, stroking her hair. “You don't worry about what she wants. It's not your fault, that'll be on her. And if she doesn't want you, she doesn't deserve you.”

Jane stared at him, disbelief stark against her little elfin features.

“I mean it Jane. I want you, and I will always be here for you. No matter what.” He cupped her cheek carefully, thumbing the corner of her eye to brush away a fresh tear. “You picked the wrong guy to steal a bike from cause now you're stuck with me.” He joked, attempting a smile.

Her face screwed up into a wail, skinny little arms flinging around his neck as she all but slammed herself against him, crying anew. But it was different this time, no longer the panicked cries of a child uncertain of their future. This time it was the relieved sobs of a child who'd found their home.

Dick peeked in on them some time later, blinking at the sight of Jason sprawled back on the couch, Jane's exhausted form sprawled atop his chest. Jason lifted a finger his lips, hushing anything Dick might have said to wake her.

The chatty acrobat took a hint, sitting on the coffee table again as he rocked a sleepy Elizabeth. Jason reached out to stroke her little black curls, sighing when she drifted off. They managed to stealthily put the girls down to sleep with a combined effort, Dick being better at it since his cargo was use to being lugged around like a princess. Jason caught Dick snapping pics as he tucked Jane in, and he flipped the man off from behind his back.

“Tim texted me.” Dick said when they finally retreated into the kitchen, where Jason rummaged in the fridge. He came up with a six pack of ale that Alfred imported from England. Both he and Dick took a moment to savor their first chug.

“Was he bitching?” Jason licked the rim of his bottle and leaned a hip against the granite countertop.

“Soooo much kvetching.” Dick chuckled. “He should be here soon, he skipped out on lunch with Lex.”

Jason made a face not unlike a cat who'd sniffed a banana before downing half his beer.

“It's no wonder B is being so...himself lately.” Dick admitted. “There's a lot on the table right now.” Jason perked up at that, knitting his brows.

“What's going on--”

“Nothing we can't handle.” Dick smiled, though it seemed forced. It was a thing between them, Dick still kept Jason at arm's length when it came to the casework. It pissed him off usually, but right now he needed to pick his battles. His girls were too important to jeopardize simply because he wanted to horn in on casework. He had his own job to do anyway.

He wasn't worried about Bruce.

_He wasn't._

They dropped the issue when Tim let himself in through a door hidden in the fucking kitchen pantry, both men hearing the latch a millisecond before it swung open. Jason clamped down on the shout, realizing the sneaky little bat-fink actually HAD been back to his mansion.

Tim looked like absolute shit.

He had chucked his suit jacket and tie over his arm, collar already unbuttoned. Without so much as a word he trudged to the coffee maker and pressed start. Jason growled when it began brewing a pot of coffee that he knew he most certainly had not set up.

“When were you gonna tell me you had a trap door into the house?” He asked, keeping his tone low.

The pot was percolating slowly, the machine groaning as Tim folded his arms on the countertop and dropped his head into them. “Please let me have at least two pots of coffee before you begin to bust my balls ok?”

Jason scowled and moved forward, only to have Dick stop him with a hand to his chest.

“C'mon no fighting or shouting. Kiddos are asleep remember?” Dick smiled, tense.

Tim yawned.

“Fine.” Jason threw his hands in the air and went back to his spot at the counter to open another beer. “You're gonna show me every hideyhole you got in here.”

“Just that one and the one that goes into the attic space above my old bedroom.” Tim sighed, before he amended. “I had a secret hidden panel in my closet too, but it's kinda outdated.”

“How did I not see that?” Jason asked, bewildered.

“I'm just that good?” Tim suggested, popping up when the coffee machine beeped to alert him that it was about to start spitting out coffee. He switched out the carafe for a large coffee mug so fast it didn't spill a drop. It was no wonder since Lady Shiva had trained him.

Dick held Jason back again, though it was more playful than before.

“ _Aaaah_. Sweet, sweet bean juice.” Tim purred after his fourth sip, finally coming around. He flicked his gaze from Dick to Jason, then to the pack of beer that was steadily dwindling.

“So.” Dick rolled his shoulders. “How was he?”

“He was insufferable.” Tim mimicked Damian, even down to the facial expression. It smoothed back out as he took another long swallow from his mug. “I had to field a lot of the board's questions because he was definitely not in the meeting with us today. He is going to be a problem. I had fourteen trackers on my person today and seventeen more on my vehicle.”

Dick and Jason winced.

“I'm gonna be grounded to Bludhaven, aren't I?” Dick rubbed his face.

“I'd stay away from Gotham for now, yeah.” Tim looked to the ceiling, as though thinking. “I'm good at finding the trackers but this may be the last time we can meet you face to face for a while, Jason.”

“What are we gonna do?” Dick sounded stressed. “Jay can't just stop patrolling his territory, who's gonna watch the girls?”

“I got it covered.” At least, Jason hoped he did. He was going to have to make a trek to the library again and see if Charlie was hanging out there. If he wasn't, he'd figured something out. Barbara knew about the girls now and could help him find someone.

“Hey, I have a housekeeper!” Jason told them defensively when both looked at him with doubt clear on their faces.

“Wait.” Dick's brows rose. “The one that clocked me???”

“Yeah. It's been a little hectic so he hasn't been able to come here but once things settle down I'll get them back on schedule.” Jason shrugged. “So don't worry about the kids, I got them.”

“His housekeeper clocked you??” Tim shot an incredulous stare at Dick.

“Charlie is pretty spry.” Jason shrugged.

“The weird thing is I don't even remember much about it.” Dick sighed. “He has a helluva hook.”

Tim's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Jason quickly began to steer the conversation away from his housekeeper.

“Anyway, it's covered. I don't want either of you coming around leading Buttman to my doorstep. So if you gotta contact me, keep it to a minimum.” He picked up the discarded bowl of cereal in the sink and began to wash up, giving his hands something to do. Tim and Dick chatted about the company meeting, their voices a lull in the din of the kitchen sink running.

When he finished both were watching him, Dick biting his lower lip and trying to hide a grin. Tim wasn't smiling, but his eyes were twinkling. Heat began to creep up his neck, filling his cheeks with a flush of self consciousness.

“What??” He asked.

“Nothing just... Alfred was right.” Dick was grinning widely now.

“Huh?” Jason's anger fizzled, leaving him befuddled.

“He said you were the only one he could trust in the kitchen.” Dick pulled the white apron off the hook near the cabinet, and Tim barely covered his laugh as a cough when Dick wrapped it around his own waist and shimmied. The frilled edges danced at the acrobat's movement, and Jason's face went hot with embarrassment.

“Oh my god fuck you guys.” Jason groaned. “It was the only one the store had ok? I don't have time to go find a man-store with a man-apron.”

“Man apron.” Tim mouthed silently, before he and Dick burst into muffled laughter, both desperately trying to not be too loud.

“If you both don't shut up I will make you eat that apron.” Jason warned, snatching the garment off Dick and put it back on the hook. He realized that it was a pointless move because he actually did have to start dinner, and he yanked it back off the hook to put it on. The other two peeled into fresh laughter and while he was chargined, it... felt good.

How long had it been since he'd been given shit for something stupid, where there was no real harm or heat behind it? Too long. Not since Roy had-- he cut the thought off abruptly and busied himself with pulling out the vegetables and beans from the fridge and cabinet respectively.

The laughter finally died down to a few sputtering chuckles, and Jason flipped the large stock pot out of the cabinet over the stove and then began to clean the vegetables in the sink. It wasn't until he was halfway through chopping and peeling that he realized both men had been too quiet, and looked up to find them gone.

He frowned, focusing on the task at hand. He was going to have to trust them, if this was going to work out at all he reasoned. It still niggled at the back of his mind as he cooked, stewing up a vegetable soup that was as delicious as it was nutritious. He opened the oven and pulled out the large pyrex bowl covered in a dishtowel, where a ball of bread dough he'd prepped earlier had risen to a large soft mound of yeasty goodness.

He cut the dough into four portions and then lightly kneaded them into balls. He found the big cast iron dutch oven and placed it into the oven to preheat, before carefully cutting squares of parchment paper for each dough ball to rest on.

While the oven heated, Jason cleared the kitchen up and then arranged the dough balls into the dutch oven and covered it with a lid. It would take at least half an hour for the bread bowls to cook, so he busied himself by stirring the soup and taste testing it for the right seasoning and salt.

It was when he took the bread out of the oven that Dick drifted back into the kitchen, sniffing the air like a hound dog on the scent of a fresh coon.

“You made some for me?” Dick sounded awed when Jason put each rustic roll onto a cooling rack to rest.

“No I made some for the clown in disco shorts.” Jason snarked, shooing him away. “What were you two up to, bugging my house?”

Dick looked hurt, sucking his finger after getting the knuckle swatted.

“Well, we were putting some cameras around the exterior so Babs can keep an eye on the place.” Dick shuffled, and it looked like being honest about that was painful. Jason crinkled his upper lip in a grimace.

“Nothing inside the house.” He allowed, knowing it was probably for the better that Babs have some sort of oversight.

“I didn't!” Dick exclaimed. “Tim's working on some plans to outfit your bedroom with some stash spots. That's all, I promise.”

“I can do that myself.” Jason said stubbornly.

“Sure but...” Dick trailed off.

“I know the layout of the building like the back of my hand.” Tim said from the doorway, tucking a small tablet away into the pocket of his slacks. “I left a copy of my plans on your bed, see what you think and do what you want.” He stopped, blinking at them. “God that smells so good.”

“Doesn't it?” Dick agreed.

“Yeah, yeah, stop buttering me up.” Jason rolled his eyes, checking the vegetable soup again. “Go wake up Jane, Pretty Boy. Tell her dinner is ready.”

“With a kiss?” Tim teased, his lips quirked.

“ _I will bury you in the backyard so help me._ ” Jason threatened and was only half serious about it. But it was progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took me a hot minute to finish, and it's nothing but domestic fluffy bliss and good hugs. *wipes manly tear* I promise, things will heat up plot wise but I had to get some Jay-Jane bonding. It's really hard to write kids, especially ones coming from such a screwed up background. She's trying her best ok?
> 
> I hope ya'll enjoyed it! (PS Pardon my typos/awkward writing, I have no beta reader and I don't have the attention span most nights to fix it. I die like a manly man in a frilly white apron.)
> 
> ALSO I HAVE A TUMBLR NOW!
> 
> https://batsaboutbats.tumblr.com/
> 
> Please go follow me if you're interested in seeing what I'm up to, or if you'd just like to send me asks/prompts? :) I love interacting with people!


	8. Chapter 8 (work in progress)

Jane was in a much better mood when she came downstairs holding Tim's hand. Her pigtails were a little skewed from sleeping on them, but they still bounced to and fro with her step all the same. She was definitely happy to have 'Pretty Boy' as company, though Jason noticed she was distinctly less chatty than usual. He remembered that at her age he'd been awestruck around people he had a crush---no, _admired_.

“Think Lizzie needs a bottle too?” Dick asked glancing at the clock.

“She was still asleep!” Jane chirped from Tim's side, swinging their joined hands easily. Tim was definitely hiding an amused smile.

“She'll keep then.” Jason pulled out the silverware drawer and began to pull out the spoons. “You like vegetable soup?”

Jane nodded as Tim pulled out a chair for her and let her sit down at the table first before he took the seat next to her. Dick's grin was practically a spotlight it was so bright. Jason resisted the urge to pinch the older man's cheek till he cried uncle.

“Where's the bowl?” Jane asked, perplexed by the small bread loaf he set in front of her.

“The bread is the bowl. See?” He lifted the top of the crust, revealing the steaming soup.

“Won't it leak??” Jane's eyes widened, grabbing the loaf up and looking at the bottom of it.

“Nah, not unless you let it sit for an hour.” Jason shrugged, handing her a spoon. “Dig in kid.”

He sat across from Jane, leaving Dick to the chair opposite of Tim. The men didn't touch their own meals for a few moments, watching the little blonde eat her dish. She only struggled when she finished the soup inside and seemed at a loss on what to do with the bread.

Tim surprised Jason by demonstrating for her without a word, lifting his half full bowl and taking a huge bite right out of it's side. He wiped his chin, before licking his fingers, pretending to ignore Jane's bambi eyes blinking at him in shock.

“God, you animal. I have napkins!” Jason scolded.

Dick hummed as he ate, popping the spoon out of his mouth audibly.

“Can you not?” Jason hissed.

“It's so good though.” Dick feigned innocence.

“I am trying to instill good manners. It's like Alfred's lessons went in one ear and out the other with your two.” Jason grumbles, scooting out his chair to snag a few napkins for them. Jane's the neatest eater out of them all, her tiny fingers nimble as she takes pieces off the loaf carefully. Jason is unprepared for what comes out of her mouth next.

“Is Alfred your grandpa?” She seems to direct the question at all of them, and while she's technically right, it's a lot more complicated than that. Dick nods before Jason can answer.

“Yep~!”

“What about your Daddy?” Jane's follow up makes them all tense, because while they know Bruce isn't supposed to know about her, they aren't very sure what Jason's feelings are on telling her about Bruce.

“I don't have a Dad.” Jason responds after a long moment of chewing and swallowing down the last bit of his soup bowl. “You see, Dick, Tim and I are all adopted. Alfred's technically our grandfather but not through blood. You could say he raised us. Kinda like your parents did for you.”

“Oh.” Jane nods, before smiling brightly. “I like Alfred.”

“Me too.” Jason agrees, before glancing at Dick's sour expression. Apparently he didn't like the fact Jason had long since stopped seeing Bruce as a father. Tim was more mild about it, keeping his expression schooled.

“Jason told me you dismantled his bike.” Tim folds his arms on the table as he changes the subject. “You like building things?”

“Oh yes!” Jane chirps, “My dad taught me stuff. He was an engineer!”

Jason cuts a sharp look at Tim, warning him silently.

“That's great, I can bring you some projects to work on, if you'd like.” Tim nods. “Since you aren't in school yet, I'm sure you'd like something to keep you busy?”

Jane falters at the mention of school, glancing at Jason worriedly.

“It's ok, we don't have to worry about it right now.” Jason assures her. “We still have some things hammer out before we can do that. And of course, you can pick wherever you want to go.” She seems to relax at that, rolling her lower lip between her teeth.

“Do you wanna play Mario Kart?” Jane asks Tim, as Jason begins to clean up their meal.

“Sure, but only if I can be Princess Peach.” He laughs, helping her down from her chair. Jane grins toothily, dashing for the staircase.

“Good cause I'm Bowser!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow progress on this fic, I know a lot of you have been waiting patiently for an update while I write LPALG with my coauthor. I do plan to finish this, I'm just really inspired by Tim and Jay making goo-goo eyes at each other right now. XD 
> 
> I decided to go ahead and release what I've got in the tank so far for chapter 8, and will try to work on this again in the near future. Things written so far may change later, fair warning! :) Hope you enjoyed the preview!


End file.
